Facing Unwanted Inner Demons
by ashmccoleman
Summary: Season 1/2. While searching for their dad, Dean is trying to hide a lot from both Sam, and himself. Can Dean handle the stress of the job when Sam is with him 24/7. Or will Dean finally have to face his emotions, and let Sam in. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

Season 1/2. While searching for their dad, Dean is trying to hide a lot from both Sam, and himself. Can Dean handle the stress of the job when Sam is with him 24/7. Or will Dean finally have to face his emotions, and let Sam in.

Contains: Self-harm, non-con, and violence.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

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PROLOGUE

Dean wakes up in yet another crummy motel room. The room is still dark, as the sun has barely peaked above the horizon outside.

Dean is on his stomach wearing a t-shirt and boxers, lying on top of the covers. Dean groans and pushes himself off the bed and slowly makes his way to the bathroom.

When he turns on the light in the bathroom, the light reveals a nasty looking cut peaking out under the hem of his left t-shirt sleeve. There is dry blood down his arm, and his sleeve is crusted. Dean looks at himself in the mirror and shakes his head. He pulls off his t-shirt slowly, and cringes in pain as his shirt is pulled from his wound. The wound begins to slightly bleed again. He knows he should stitch the cut up, but instead he pulls off his boxers and hops into the shower.

It's been three days since he finished his solo gig in New Orleans, and over two weeks since he's spoken to his father. His father was supposed to meet up with him in this crap-hole of a town two days ago. Dean figured his father's gig gave him a little more trouble then his father anticipated. But last night Dean began to panic. He hasn't been able to get through to his father since they separated, which Dean was able to deal with as he was working on a hunt. But now, alone in a motel room for days waiting, Dean was starting to panic. He could not get a hold of his father at all, and none of their fellow hunter contacts have heard anything.

He did what he did because he was worried about his father. He refused to admit even to himself that it had anything to do with what happened the night he left New Orleans. Or what repressed memories of more messed up childhood events that seemed to bring back into his mind for a moment, but Dean tucked them all away, out of thought yet again. He couldn't think about that, no, he couldn't. Because if he did, if he really took the time to admit to himself what happen a couple nights ago, then he would have to admit what happened to him when he was a child. No, he had to find his father.

Dean picked up a nasty habit over the years, sure he's been through a lot, most of which he hides from the world, including his coping mechanism. Dean was usually a lot more careful than this. But last night he didn't care, and he cut deeper and longer than he's ever cut, and with his knife he keeps under his pillow. It was the closest thing to him as he began to have a panic attack after leaving his father yet another message on his voice-mail. Deeper than even the after the very fist time so many years ago.

In the shower he lets the water wash away the blood running down his arm. He thinks back to when he first found his release. He was much younger than, and messed up big time. His father never really looked at him the same, at least not in Dean's eyes. But his father didn't punish him either.

You see, before John really got into hunting he did not know what to do with his life anymore. Once Dean starting talking again, and taking care of Sammy, John stopped being much of a father. He started to train Dean hard, and ever once and awhile that training would land Dean an extra slap or punch if he did not do what was now expected of him. But after one night, where John got really drunk for the first time since getting into hunting, he beat Dean pretty bad. And this beating was not a result of a training session or a hunt gone wrong. John quickly saw what he was doing, and apologized profusely. Dean knew Sam was aware of what was happening, even if they would never talk about it and even though Sammy was so young at the time. Dean didn't mid, as long as their father never raised a hand to Sammy. He was also glad at the unspoken code of silence the brothers took up when it came to their father and his training methods. Because Dean can't do talking, emotional, anything, he just can't.

But after Dean almost got his little Sammy killed, he expected a beating. And when he never got one, he still thought he deserved to be punished for what he did, so he cut himself. It was partly an accident at first, but then he saw the release in that self-inflicted pain, he knew he found something to help with all his pent-up and hidden emotions and pain.

Dean shakes his head, trying to get out of his memories. It was no time to be down on himself for the way his life turned out, he needed to find his father.

Dean quickly packed up his things. When he checked his phone there was a message from his father. Dean collapsed onto the bed with relief. He quickly listened to the message.

Dad on voicemail: {Through much static} Dean, something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on {The rest is inaudible, as the static has taken over.} Be very careful Dean, we're all in danger.

Dean closes the phone. He needs to find his father. He's not that far from California, a day or so worth of driving. But he's got to make a stop first, because if his father really is hurt, or worse, dead, Dean will definitely go off the deep end if he'll alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Slow chapter, I apologize. The story will pick up in the next couple chapters, I promise.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

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CHAPTER 1 – The PILOT

Dean convinced Sam to join him, which is a great weight off Dean's shoulders. He no longer has to panic, because no matter what happens he won't be alone. Sure he has to bring Sam back to Stanford soon, but for the next couple days Dean can let his mind relax.

Sam on the other hand is feeling a bit anxious, he swore he would not return to this life, ever. But there was something about Dean that night that make him what to help. Dean is his brother after all, even if they want two completely different things out of life.

They are now stopped at a gas station for gas and food, not far from Jericho, California where their father was on a job.

Dean approaches Sam with food, as Sam looks through Dean's cassette tapes.

**DEAN**: Hey, you want breakfast?

**SAM**: No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit car scams?

**DEAN**: Yeah well…hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards.

Sam never liked this aspect of hunting, and he just shakes his head at the look on Dean's face, so proud to get free money.

**SAM**: Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?

Dean gets back in the car.

**DEAN**: Uh…Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal.

**SAM**: Sounds about right. I swear man; you gotta update your cassette-tape collection.

**DEAN**: Why?

**SAM**: Well for one they are cassette tapes, and two – Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock.

Dean grabs a cassette from Sam and pops it into the player.

**DEAN**: House rules Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.

**SAM**: You know Sammy is a chubby 12 year old. It's Sam, okay?

**DEAN**: I'm sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud.

Dean pulls out of the gas station with a smile on his face. It was definitely a good idea to pick up Sam.

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After a long day in Jericho, talking to the cops, Amy, and doing some research at the library, Dean and Sam find themselves back on the bridge where they had previously talked to the cops.

**DEAN**: So this is where Constance took the swan dive.

**SAM**: So you think dad would have been here?

**DEAN**: Well he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.

Looking around the bridge, Dean is getting a bad feeling. Where's their dad?

**SAM**: Okay, so now what?

**DEAN**: Now we keep digging till we find him. It might take a while.

**SAM**: Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by…

**DEAN**: Monday. Right, the interview.

_Damn it._ Dean really can't do this alone. He doesn't understand Sam need for normalcy.

**SAM**: Yeah.

**DEAN**: Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?

**SAM**: Maybe. Why not?

**DEAN**: Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?

**SAM**: No and she's not ever going to know.

Sam hates having these conversations with his brother, they never end well.

**DEAN**: Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

Dean starts walking down the bridge, he too knows this conversation is not going to end well. Why did he have to say that? He doesn't face up to his problems, why should he deny Sam his way of dealing with the life they had growing up, or his life now for that matter.

**SAM**: Who is that?

**DEAN**: One of us.

**SAM**: No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.

**DEAN**: Well you've got a responsibility.

**SAM**: To dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone, and she isn't coming back.

Sam realizes he went too far when he sees the anger in Dean's eyes. Bringing up Mom's death is something their family rarely does, which really bugs Sam. Dean however doesn't want to think about that part of his life, and despite the fact that he started this conversation, he was sure as hell was going to end it. He grabs Sam by the shirt and shoves him against a rail on the bridge.

**DEAN**: Don't talk about her like that.

Dean realizes that he can't stay this close to Sam, he can't be this close to this conversation so he quickly lets go. He turns away from Sam to try to collect himself and that's when he sees a woman in white on the side of the bridge.

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After getting away from Constance and her possessing Dean's car, the boys find themselves at the same motel their dad stayed at. And now they were standing in the same room their dad stayed in. The room is a mess. The bed is unmade, and there are pictures and newspaper articles covering the walls.

**SAM**: Whoa.

Dean turns on a light, and under the lamp is a half-eaten hamburger. As Sam is walking around a table that has a circle of salt around the floor, Dean sniffs the hamburger.

**DEAN**: I don't think he's been here for a couple of days, at least.

**SAM**: Salt, cats-eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.

Dean's mind is starting to go over all the worst possible cases, and he's starting to panic. He needs to focus. He starts looking at the articles on the walls. Sam soon is next to him look at the articles as well.

**SAM**: What do you got here?

**DEAN**: Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean different men.

Sam starts to look at the other walls that are covered in pictures.

**DEAN**: Different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?

Sam finds a paper that says "Woman in White." Sam smiles, know figuring out the connection.

**SAM**: Dad figured it out.

**DEAN**: What do you mean?

**SAM**: He found the same article we did. Constance Welch, she's a woman in white.

Dean looks back at the pictures of the victims, now too also getting the connection.

**DEAN**: You sly dogs. All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.

**SAM**: She might have another weakness.

**DEAN**: No, dad would want to make sure, he'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?

**SAM**: No, not that I can tell. If I were dad though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive.

**DEAN**: All right, why don't you see if you can find an address. I'm gonna get cleaned up.

**SAM**: Hey Dean – What I said earlier, about mom and dad, I'm sorry.

Dean holds up his hand to stop him from going further, he really can't have this conversation right now. He has to keep his game face on.

**DEAN**: No chick flick moments.

Sam smiles, _of Course. Why would I think Dean would actually have this conversation._

**SAM**: All right, jerk.

**DEAN**: Bitch.

Sam laughs as Dean leaves the room. Sam looks around the room, and notices a picture on the mirror of Dean and Sam when they were younger, with their father. It's a happy picture, and Sam can't help but wish they had a normal, better, and happy childhood.

Once Dean is alone in the washroom and leans his head against the door and takes a deep breath. He's shaking a little, he needs to find his dad. And alive.

Dean strips down and gets into the shower. The warm water is nice against his cold and dirty skin. His cut on his arm is red, and Dean is careful to clean all the mud and dirt out of the wound. He really should stitch it up, it would heal a lot faster and won't leave an ugly scar, but he still refuses to stitch it up. The pain from clearing it helping to take his mind off the stress of this case, and the stress of his conversation with Sam on the bridge.

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The case is now over and Dean drove Sam back to his apartment. And that's when everything changed. Dean hating seeing his brother like that. And he really didn't like seeing Jessica pinned to the ceiling. Even if he didn't know her, it did not bring back happy memories.

After what seems like years, they end up in a hotel room. Sam has barely spoken. Dean starts to wish he never got Sam in the first place, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Sure, he really needed Sam support during that last hunt, but was it worth it?

**SAM**: I'm going to hop in the shower.

Sam does not wait for a response from Dean, nor does he get one. Both brothers are both living in their own heads at the moment. Dean snaps out of it as he hears the bathroom door close and the shower start.

Dean stands up and stretches. He listens to the shower for a moment before walking over to his bag. He pulls off his jeans and throws them next to his bag. He then pulls off his jacket and throws it on top of his jeans. Dean gets his knife out of his bag and walks over to his bed, wearing a short sleeved shirt. His cut on his arm barely peeking out under the hem. Dean looks at the knife, the cut on his shoulder, and the bathroom door. He needs to be a lot more careful now with Sam around.

Dean lays the knife down on his pillow. He then walks back over to his bag and pulls out a long sleeved shirt and changes into it. He doesn't want to take the change Sam might see the cut on his shoulder and start asking questions.

Dean then sits back on the bed, and picks up his knife. Thoughts about his mom start popping into his head. _Stop it, stop it! Not know!_

Dean rolls up the sleeve of his left arm and stares at it. There are very very faint scars from old cuts. Some hunt related, but mostly self inflicted. Before Dean can decide to cut himself tonight, the shower stops. Dean quickly puts the knife under his pillow, rolls down his sleeve and gets under the covers.

After a couple minutes Sam exits the bathroom and gets ready for bed. Neither brother says a word. Dean is worried, very worried about Sam, but does not know how to handle these situations. He'll just do what he does best, focus on the hunt.

Focus on finding their father.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

This chapter is still a little slow, but the story should be picking up pretty soon. This is my first attempt at supernatural fanfiction. Loved to know what you all think, reviews would be awesome. Thanks. Here's the newest chapter.

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Chapter 2 - DEAD IN THE WATER

Dean and Sam get settled into their motel room. They've already talked to some people regarding the drowning at Lake Manitoc. Sam is still grinning with amusement from Dean's failed attempt at picking up Andrea. Dean, however, is not as amused.

Dean is trying to keep his game face in place, as hard as it's been lately. After witnessing Jessica's death, both Dean and Sam have changed. Sam became reckless during their last hunt, hunting the wendigo. Dean managed a little talk, and Sam seems to be handling things. But Dean does not know how to handle his own issues that came from witness Jessica burn, as well as the constant absent of their father.

If Sam wants to talk about it, Dean's here for him. But Dean can't start that kind of a conversation, not when his treading so lightly. His mask is barely holding up. Since getting Sam from Stanford, Dean has been overly careful. He hasn't allowed himself to indulge in his secret coping mechanism.

After settling down and getting some research done, Sam and Dean find Andrea and her son Lucas at a park. Dean doesn't really know why, but he's drawn to Lucas. So instead of shameless flirting with Andrea, Dean finds his way over to Lucas. Leaving his brother to talk to Andrea.

Dean approaches Lucas, who is silently drawing.

**DEAN**: How's it goin?

Dean kneels down next to the bench Lucas is using as a table to drawn on. There are also toy soldiers on the bench.

**DEAN**: Oh I used to love these things.

Dean makes gun sounds and explosions, throwing the toy soldier down after pretending to shot it. Dean feels kind of silly, but Lucas doesn't seem to notice.

**DEAN**: So crayons is more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists.

Dean begins to look at the pile of papers that Lucas has already colored. Dean is slightly confused by the black swirls that takes up a couple pieces of paper. Other pictures are of a red bicycle, Dean's not sure what means either.

**DEAN**: Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?

Dean picks up a random colored crayon.

**DEAN**: I'm not so bad myself.

Dean picks up a pad of paper, and thinks for a moment what he could possible draw. Dean is drawn to Lucas. He can't remember the years after his mother's death that clearly (not that he really wants to), as he was so young. But he's heard from many hunters that met John in those early years that Dean wouldn't take much either. Maybe that's why he feels something for this kid.

**DEAN**: You know, I'm thinking you can hear me; you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something. Anyways... Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything, you could draw me a picture about what you saw that day with your dad on the lake. Okay, no problem. This is for you.

Dean holds on the picture he finished.

**DEAN**: This is my family.

Dean points to the people he drew as introduces them to Lucas.

**DEAN**: That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me. All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas.

Dean gets up, leaving the picture with Lucas, and leaves. He walks towards Andrea and Sam, who are having a conversation.

**ANDREA**: Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me - Not since his dad's accident.

**DEAN**: Yeah we heard. Sorry.

**SAM**: What are the doctors saying?

**ANDREA**: That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress.

**SAM**: That can't be easy, for either of you.

**ANDREA**: We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...

**DEAN**: Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.

**ANDREA**: You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army me. I just wish...

Lucas walks up to his mother, Dean, and Sam.

**ANDREA**: Hey sweetie.

Lucas hands a pictures.

**DEAN**: Thanks...Thanks Lucas.

Lucas walks back to his table. Both Andrea and Sam are speechless. Dean just looks at the picture. Dean never talked to his father about those years after their mother's death, nobody really talked about mom. He could only imagine what extra burden he must've added to his father by not talking. Post-Traumatic Stress. _Poor Lucas._

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After talking to Bill. Dean knows they need to go back to talk to Lucas. How Lucas knows what he does, Dean isn't sure. But Dean feels Lucas is the key to this case.

So Dean and Sam make their way to Andrea's house to talk to Lucas.

**ANDREA**: I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea.

**DEAN**: I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes.

**ANDREA**: He won't say anything, what good's it gonna do?

**SAM**: Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there.

**ANDREA**: My husband, the others - They just drowned. That's it.

**DEAN**: If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son.

Andrea is hesitant, but leads Dean and Sam up to see Lucas. Lucas is in his room, playing with his toy soldiers and drawing. Dean enters the room, leaving Andrea and Sam to listen by the doorway. Dean kneels down, and notices that Lucas has drawn two more pictures of the red bicycle.

**DEAN**: Hey Lucas. You remember me? You know, I, uh...I wanted to thank you for that last drawing...but the thing is, I need your help again.

Lucas is now drawing something that looks like a person in water. Dean takes out the picture that Lucas gave to him earlier.

**DEAN**: How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me.

Lucas still does notice. Dean can feel Sam and Andrea's stares. He really doesn't want to get to personal, but he's running into a wall with Lucas.

**DEAN**: You're scared. It's okay, I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom - I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe...your dad wants you to be brave too.

Lucas looks up to Dean. This surprises Andrea and Sam. Sam is a little more surprised by Dean's pretty heartfelt speech. It's been a long time since he's seen Dean let out any vulnerability. Especially to someone he's only knows for such a short while.

Lucas gives Dean a new picture, with a church, a house, and a boy with a red bicycle.

**DEAN**: Thanks Lucas.

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Dean and Sam are now in the Impala. Dean is trying to keep the conversation solely on the case, but there's a look in Sam's eyes that makes Dean uneasy. Dean can't have the conversation Sam wants to have, not without breaking down some of his walls. And he can't do that, not now.

**DEAN**: Andrea said the kid never drew like that 'till his dad died.

**SAM**: There are cases going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies.

**DEAN**: Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before someone else drowns. If you got a better lead, please.

**SAM**: All right...we got another house to find.

**DEAN**: The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone.

Sam studies the picture, looking at the church.

**SAM**: See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here?

**DEAN**: Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart.

Dean smiles at Sam, but Sam is still staring at the picture. _Shit. Don't do this to me Sammy. Not now, please._

**SAM**: You know, um...what you said about mom...

Dean grips the wheel tightly. He really wished Sam would drop this conversation, but why should Dean believe himself to be that lucky.

**SAM**: You never told me that before.

**DEAN**: It's no big deal...Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?

Dean needs his joking to work this time, it's important. Sam laughs, but it seems forced.

**SAM**: I'm sorry.

**DEAN**: Look, what happened to mom...it was a long time ago. I barely remember much from the years after she died, okay? I'm fine. I just needed to make Lucas open up to me, okay?

Sam looks over at Dean, who is focused on the road. Sam can tell there's more to this than Dean's willing to admit. Sam wants to push the subject, but he's afraid of what might happen if he pushes too hard. His family never talked about mom for a reason, it was too painful for Dean and their father. So Sam settles back into his seat, and looks out the window, keeping his eye out for this church.

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After learning the truth about Andrea's father, nearly losing Lucas and losing Andrea's father, Dean was spent. Sure the job was done, they saved the day. But they didn't save all that they could. Andrea still lost her father.

Sam and Dean are packing up the car. Sam's trying to make Dean feel better by giving the same lame line they always tell each other after they lose people on a hunt; "You can't save everyone." Like that really makes up for failing.

Before they can head off, Andrea and Lucas come over to the Impala to say their goodbyes. Lucas is talking now, and he brings over some sandwiches.

**ANDREA**: Sam, Dean.

**DEAN**: Hey.

**ANDREA**: We're glad we caught you. We just um, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.

**LUCAS**: Can I give it to them now?

**ANDREA**: Of course.

**DEAN**: Come on Lucas; let's load this into the car.

Dean leads Lucas to the car, leaving Andrea and Sam to talk.

**SAM**: How you holding up?

**ANDREA**: It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?

**SAM**: Andrea, I'm sorry.

**ANDREA**: You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold onto that.

Dean puts the sandwiches into the car, and then turns to face Lucas.

**DEAN**: All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.

**LUCAS**: Zeppelin rules!

**DEAN**: That's right. Up high.

Dean holds out his hand, and Lucas gives him a high five.

**DEAN**: You take care of your mom, okay?

**LUCAS**: All right.

Andrea and Sam approach Dean and Lucas. Andrea leans over and gives Dean a kiss.

**ANDREA**: Thank you.

Dean pauses for a moment, surprised by the kiss. He then scratches his head, and starts for the drivers side of the car.

**DEAN**: Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.

Dean and Sam get into the car, waving goodbye to Andrea and Lucas. The Impala drives off the lot.

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It's getting dark outside, and neither of the boys are speaking. Dean is glad for the silence, listening to his music, calming his down. But the silence is almost making him a little nervous, not sure what Sam is thinking.

**SAM**: Dean, I just...

Sam just stops, and for a long time Dean isn't just if he actually heard Sam talk or not. Dean takes a deep breath, knowing he's probably going to regret this.

**DEAN**: Sam? What is it?

**SAM**: I know I've been hard on you, with finding dad and everything.

**DEAN**: It's fine Sam.

**SAM**: But you were really good with that kid.

**DEAN**: Lucas?

**SAM**: I was surprised.

**DEAN**: I told you I liked kids.

Sam smiles.

**SAM**: Yes you did.

There's another awkward silence.

**SAM**: And...Dean...I know you don't....I know we don't talk about what happened, but...I, I'm sorry.

**DEAN**: What are you talking about Sam?

Dean's pretty sure he knows what Sam is trying to get to. But Dean wants to stall this conversation as much as he can.

**SAM**: But I get it. Why you were able to connect to him. What you both must have saw, it...well, I guess I can understand what you must have gone through back then.

**DEAN**: Sammy...shit. It doesn't compare, okay. Like I said, I was young. I really don't remember much.

**SAM**: But you were like Lucas, for a while, weren't you? I remember Bobby, and Pastor Jim, maybe even Caleb mentioning how quiet you were in those early years. I always thought they were pulling my leg. 'Cuz I always remember you being there for me, talking to me.

**DEAN**: Do we really have to do this Sam. I'm tired. I just want to drive as far as I can, and then crash in some crappy motel room for the rest of the night before we find something else to kill.

**SAM**: I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry and poke at issues that are obviously still hard to deal with.

**DEAN**: Look, sure, maybe I didn't talk much after mom died. Maybe it's like Andrea said, post traumatic stress disorder, or something. I don't know, I'm not a fucking doctor. But what I do know, is if I did have that...That's just an extra burden I put on dad when I had no right to.

Sam has to think for a moment. Did he really hear his brother right. He thought he was a burden on their father just because he didn't know how to handle losing their mother.

**SAM**: A burden? Is that what you think? You were four years old Dean.

**DEAN**: Right, and I should have just...

**SAM**: You weren't a burden. You think Lucas was a burden.

**DEAN**: No! Of course not.

**SAM**: Then why would you be?

**DEAN**: Look, Andrea had people to lean on when she couldn't deal with it all. What did dad have? Nothing.

**SAM**: Dean...you really think that....

**DEAN**: Sam I'm tired. So unless you want me to cause some giant pile up before the sun even set, you'll let me relax, listen to my music, and just drive. Because, I just....I can't....

Dean takes a deep breath. _God damn it Sammy. _

**DEAN**: Just let me drive, okay? You look beat, so, why don't you just take a nap, and I'll wake you when we get somewhere.

Sam just stares at Dean, he really shouldn't be surprised. He doesn't even know why he started this conversation in the first place. But did Dean really think that he was a burden, at four years old. Sure, Sam knew he brother had emotion problems. That kind of comes with the job, and their background. But this was new.

Sam just sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. Maybe the conversation was over for now, and maybe it was over for ever. But Sam is here now, and maybe that's all Dean needs from him right now.

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Hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter. Like I said, things should start picking up next chapter as we move onto "SKIN"

**REVIEWS** would be great. Let me know what you all think. Inputs are always helpful.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

This chapter has a warning of mild reference to non-con and child abuse, but nothing graphic at this point in the story. Again this is my first attempt at supernatural fanfiction. Loved to know what you all think, reviews would be awesome. Thanks. Here's the newest chapter.

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CHAPTER 3 - SKIN

Dean has not brought up the Bloody Mary incident all week, even thought it's driving him nuts. He can't believe his brother is keeping secrets from him. Not that he's any better. But luckily, Sam's nightmares have gotten a little better since that hunt. Maybe it was something Sam needed. Whatever happened, hopefully Sam can tell Dean eventually.

Dean is also especially on edge because they still have yet to find a lead on the father, so they are hunting down whatever they can. Dean is pushing at the hunts so that he does not have a lot of time to think about everything else. Thinking can get Dean into some seriously trouble right now. He needs some release, he needs to kill something.

They've now stopped at a gas station, on the way to their next hunt. Dean is trying to talk to Sam about their next hunt but Sam is clearly distracted.

**DEAN**: Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.

Sam is not acknowledging Dean. He's going through e-mails on his phone.

**DEAN**: Sam wears women's underwear.

**SAM**: I've been listenin', I'm just busy.

**DEAN**: Busy doin' what?

**SAM**: Reading e-mails.

Dean gets out of the car, and starts to fill up the gas tank. Sam stays in the car.

**DEAN**: E-mails from who?

**SAM**: From my friends at Stanford.

**DEAN**: You're kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?

**SAM**: Why not?

**DEAN**: Well, what exactly do you tell 'em? You know, about where you've been, what you've been doin'?

**SAM**: I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother. I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess.

**DEAN**: Oh, so you lie to 'em.

**SAM**: No. I just don't tell 'em....everything.

**DEAN**: Yeah, that's called lying. I mean, hey man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse.

**SAM**: So, what am I supposed to do? Just cut everybody out of my life?

Dean just shrugs. He never understood why Sam wanted to go off to college so badly in the first place, so he can't really begin to understand the need to keep in touch will all his friends.

**SAM**: You're serious?

**DEAN**: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period.

**SAM**: You're kind of anti-social, you know that?

**DEAN**: Yeah, whatever.

Sam goes back to reading his e-mails. Dean just shakes his head. He's not anti-social, he thinks, he talks to lots of people. Lots of girls, especially.

**SAM**: God...

**DEAN**: What?

**SAM**: In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.

**DEAN**: Is she hot?

Sam just ignores Dean, it's typical so it now longer really bothers or surprises him.

**SAM**: I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.

**DEAN**: Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?

**SAM**: No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer.

**DEAN**: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

**SAM**: They're in St. Louis. We're going.

Dean chuckles. They already have a case. He can't drop that to go help Sam's normal little friends. He might actually snap.

**DEAN**: Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.

**SAM**: It is our problem. They're my friends.

**DEAN**: St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.

**SAM**: I don't care Dean.

Sam stares at Dean for a moment before slamming his door of the Impala shut, and settling into his seat. Dean just stands there, shocked for a moment.

**DEAN**: Shit.

Dean gets into the car, and they drive off towards St. Louis.

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Dean is slightly weirded out by hanging out with Sam and his college buddy. This is what Sam wanted? But at least now they are on a case, and Dean can stop stressing over everything that's wrong with this situation and his life in general.

But if Dean knew this case would involve getting kidnapped by the damn thing, and tied up in his lair. He wouldn't have been so happy out it. He just hopes that Sam's okay.

Sam, who is also currently tied up, is pissed. He has no idea where Dean is. And the shapeshifter has decided to take on the appearance of Dean. And being slapped around by someone who looks like your big brother, is not what Sam would like to be doing at this moment.

**SAM**: Where is he? Where's Dean?

**SHAPESHIFTER**: I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you?

**SAM**: Where is he?

Sam is getting sick and tired of this guy already. He's used to hunts being about tracking and killing thing that don't speak. And already he can see why he likes that alternative.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: You don't really wanna know. (chuckles) I swear, the more I learn about you and your family - I thought I came from a bad background.

**SAM**: What do you mean, learn?

The shapeshifter stops. He grabs his head in pain. He starts to hear past conversation between Sam and Dean, Dean and his father, and some of Dean's secret thoughts. The shapeshifter then relaxes and looks over to Sam with a smile.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

**SAM**: Where is my brother?

The Shapeshifter leans closer to Sam.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me.

The shapeshifter backs away from Sam. Sam's confused by this. Sure, it seems like the Shapeshifter is really taking information from Dean's head. And maybe Sam can learn about some of those things that Dean just refuses to acknowledge. But Sam's not sure if this is really the way to find out his brother's secrets.

**SAM**: What are you talking about?

**SHAPESHIFTER**: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. Man, you don't even know what I gave up for you, do you?

Sam just looks away, trying to think of a way to get out of these tight ropes.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: I GAVE UP EVERYTHING FOR YOU! YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT!

The shapeshifter punches Sam hard in the face.

With the screaming, Dean slowly wakes up, hearing now only muffled voices. He can't make anything out, but he can hear his brother through the sheet that covers his head.

**SAM**: I never asked...

The shapeshifter back-hands Sam across the face to shut him up. He then leans in close to Sam.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: But I bet you don't even know what I'm talking about. I'm not the most chatty member of the family, am I? Not that you'd care, or listen to all the crap that I did for you. No, too self-involved. You just couldn't wait to get away from your family. Away from me.

**SAM**: That's not true, and Dean knows that.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: Does he? If that's true, then why doesn't he talk to you? Why don't...that is, if get out of this in piece...why don't you ask him about the time you both were taken away from your father for a day by child services. See if he talks about that.

Sam doesn't know what to say in response to what was just said. He doesn't remember a time they were taken away from their father, and neither Dean nor their father ever mentioned it either that Sam can recall. He wants to believe that the shapeshifter is full of shit. But there is something about what he's saying, that makes Sam wonder.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: But enough about me and my problems. I mean, sure the job sucks, but it's not without is perks. (Laughs) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky.

This gets Sam's attention. Sure, Dean's overly flirtatious with members of the opposite sex. So of course he would be attracted to Rebecca. But this, this thing standing in front of Sam. This isn't his brother.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: Dean would bang her if he had the chance, or if he was in the mood to bang anything these days.

But that, that confuses Sam. He's seen Dean flirt with many woman since he's rejoined Dean on the hunt. What is the shifter talking about? Sure he's never seen him actually get laid, because, really, that's a side of Dean that Sam never wants to see. But Sam assumes that Dean's gotten laid since they've started hunting together. Or maybe he hasn't. They sure spend almost all their time together. Maybe that explains why Dean's been kind of grumpy lately.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: But let's see what happens, huh.

The shifter smiles and covers Sam with a sheet. _Son of a bitch. _Sam tries to struggle, but the ropes are too tight.

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Sam continues to struggle, finally the sheet covering Sam falls off him. The ropes however, are still too tight.

**SAM**: Damn it.

Sam then hears some movement from another area of the room, and then someone coughs.

**DEAN**: That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature.

Dean is now fully awake, and his sheet has also fallen off his head. He now starts struggling against his ropes, that are surprisingly not tied that tightly.

**SAM**: Yeah, it's me. He went to Rebecca's, looking like you.

**DEAN**: Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one.

Dean wiggles free from his restraints. He needs to keep the jokes up, because he has no idea what Sam and the Shifter talked about. He couldn't hear them. But he's sure it wasn't anything good. He really doesn't like shapeshifters anymore, not that he's ever had a run in with any before that decided to take on his face.

Dean then makes his way over to Sam.

**DEAN**: Are you okay?

**SAM**: Slapped me around a bit, but I'm fine. Really. We just need to get to Rebecca. Have you ever run into a shapeshifter with dad before?

**DEAN**: He talked about them, but I never saw one before. Besides how to kill them, dad didn't talk about them much.

**SAM**: It's weird.

Dean finally gets the ropes free from Sam.

**DEAN**: What's weird.

Sam continues to talk as he gets free of the rope.

**SAM**: He didn't just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.

**DEAN**: What do you mean?

**SAM**: I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.

That makes Dean panic, but he can't let Sam see him panic. He has no idea if this is true, or what the shifter might have said to Sam.

Sam was now free of his ropes. Dean leans against an old table.

**DEAN**: You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?

**SAM**: Yeah, something like that. I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us.

Sam watches Dean closely, trying to watch his reaction to the news. But Dean's good at keeping everything beneath the surface, tucked away so no one can see.

**DEAN**: Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.

**SAM**: Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already.

Sam walks out of the lair. Dean thinks for a moment, takes a deep breath, making sure his game face is still in place. He then follows Sam.

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They make their way out onto the street, and down an alley.

**SAM**: Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.

**DEAN**: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Dean grabs Sam by the shoulder and then both stop.

**DEAN**: You're gonna put an APB out on me.

**SAM**: Sorry.

**DEAN**: This way.

They both run down the alley, and turn onto another street.

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Sam is really not liking this shifter at all. This is the second time he's tied up. He has no idea where Dean is. He could be arrested for all he knows.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: I must say, I will be sorry to lose this skin. Your brother's got a lot of good qualities. You should appreciate him more than you do.

Sam just stays on the ground, tied up. He needs to think of a plan, and fast. Then find his brother. His real brother.

The shifter picks up a knife and sticks it into the edge of the pool table. Sam sees his opportunity and kicks the shifter as hard as he can. The shifter falls to the ground as Sam quickly sits up and moves his hands up and down the blade of the knife. The rope breaks quickly as the shifter gets back up to his feet. Sam takes the knife and swings towards the shifter. The shifter grabs Sam by the arm, and twists it. Sam falls to the ground.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: Oh, you son of a bitch.

Sam and the shifter fight. Finally Sam pins the shifter down.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: Not bad, little brother.

**SAM**: You're not him.

The two continue to fight. Sam is thrown against a bookshelf, and books fall onto of him. Sam is stunned for a moment, as he tries to regain is footing.

**SHAPESHIFTER**: Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass.

The fight continues and soon Sam finds himself on his back, the shifter on top of him, squeezing his throat. Sam tries to loosen the grip, but nothing helps. Sam starts to panic, where's Dean when you need him.

**DEAN**: Hey!

The shifter turns to see Dean, and quickly gets off Sam. Sam tries to breath, relieved at the sound of his brother's voice. Then there's a loud gun shot, that makes Sam jump. The shifter falls to the ground, dead. Sam is barely aware of what is going on around him until he feels Rebecca's hand on his shoulder.

Dean walks over to the shifter. He's glad this hunt is finally over. He looks over at Sam, and wishes he didn't kill the shifter so fast. Even if it would be weird to basically beat the crap out of himself.

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After getting cleaned up, and packing everything back up into the Impala. Sam and Dean are almost ready to get out of this town. Dean waits by the car as Sam says his goodbyes to Rebecca.

**REBECCA**: So, this is what you do? You and your brother - you hunt down these kinds of things?

**SAM**: Yeah, pretty much.

**REBECCA**: I can't believe it. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes. And, I mean, does everyone at school - nobody knows that you do this?

**SAM**: No.

**REBECCA**: Did Jessica know?

Sam pauses, it's still too soon for him to talk about Jess. He tries to keep his emotions in check as he speaks.

**SAM**: No, she didn't.

**REBECCA**: Must be lonely.

**SAM**: Oh, no. No, it's not so bad. Anyways, what can I do? It's my family.

**REBECCA**: Well, you know, Zack and me, and everyone at school - we really miss you.

Rebecca gives Sam a hug. Sam holds on tightly. He didn't realize how much he needed this, seeing his friends. Only if it were under better circumstances.

**SAM**: Yeah, me too.

Sam pulls away from Rebecca. He tries to smile, but Rebecca can tell that bring up Jessica made Sam upset.

**REBECCA**: Well, will you call sometime?

**SAM**: It might not be for a little while.

Rebecca nods and waves goodbye to Dean. Dean waves back, hoping this means that Sam's conversation with Rebecca is almost over so that they can leave. Sam smiles and walks towards the car.

**DEAN**: So, what about your friend, Zack?

**SAM**: Cops are blamin' this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.

Sam smiles as Dean rolls his eyes. They get in the car. Dean pulls away from Rebecca's house, and they begin to drive.

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The car in silent for a while. Sam keeps thinking about the things the shifter said while being Dean. He wants to ask Dean about them so badly, but isn't sure he really wants to know what happened.

Dean too is nervous. He can tell Sam is in deep thinking mode. And that frightens him. Dean has no idea what the shifter might have said to Sam.

**DEAN**: Sorry, man.

Sam jumps out of his thoughts, surprised that Dean is talking.

**SAM**: About what?

**DEAN**: I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be...Joe College.

Sam is confused. Did Dean really mean that, or is he just trying to keep the conversation away from their just finished job.

**SAM**: No, that's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.

**DEAN**: Well, that's 'cause you're a freak.

**SAM**: Yeah, thanks.

**DEAN**: Well, I'm a freak too. I'm right there with ya, all the way.

Sam laughs. It's totally like Dean to be joking right now. No matter what the situation is Dean can still be funny.

**SAM**: Yeah, I know you are.

**DEAN**: You know, I gotta say - I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it.

**SAM**: Miss what?

**DEAN**: How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?

He smiles at Sam, and Sam just shakes his head. Dean then focuses back on driving, and Sam goes back to his thoughts. _Come on Sammy, let's just be happy the jobs done. Don't start something stupid. Please._

But eventually Sam can't take the silence anymore and he reaches over and turns down Dean's music. Dean is really worried now.

**DEAN**: What's up Sammy?

**SAM**: The shapeshifter, he said something about you.

**DEAN**: Sam, you can't believe everything he says. They're like demons, they lie.

**SAM**: I know that Dean, but still...he said things. He said you were jealous of me because I left and got to go to college, leaving you to take care dad. He said you had issues with me.

Sam looks over at his brother, hoping to be able to read him better.

**DEAN**: Sam come on. I wasn't jealous of you. This is my life, always has been.

**SAM**: That's not completely true.

**DEAN**: Sam, please.

**SAM**: He said sooner or later everyone's going to leave you. He seemed to think that you were scared of that. He also seemed to think that you had secrets from me. Which I really do believe, because he's right, you aren't exactly the chatty one of the family. Come to think of it, our whole family is a little closed off.

**DEAN**: Come on Sam everyone keeps things to themselves. If I remember correctly it wasn't too long ago you were saying there were things you needed to keep to yourself. And as much as it's bugging me, I'm giving you that space. So, please, just give me mine.

**SAM**: Space on what? What is there to give you space on Dean. Why is it that we've barely talked about anything besides the hunt or dad being missing ever since you got back from Stanford. What's going on?

**DEAN**: Nothing! Okay! Nothing's going on Sam. The shifter was just trying to get in your head, mess you up.

**SAM**: How come I never knew we were taken away from dad for a while by child services.

Dean freezes. His knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel tightly. _No, no, no. Don't. Fuck. _Dean's trying to control his breath, but he's starting to panic.

**SAM**: So that's true then. Why don't I remember any of this.

**DEAN**: Shut up Sam. Nothing happened. It was a very long time ago.

**SAM**: Then why are you shaking.

_Fuck!_

**SAM**: Just tell me, please.

Dean's mind starts to go back to that time, many years ago. Hearing voices of that night.

_**SAMMY**: Dean, what's happening._

_Sam's cries. _

_**MALE VOICE**: Where's you're little brother, boy._

Dean closes his eyes for a moment, and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes again, trying to focus on the road and push the memories away.

**DEAN**: Nothing to tell Sammy. Happened a long time ago. Doesn't surprise me that you don't remember, you were only three or four at he time. Hell, I barely remember that day. Besides, Dad got us back that same night. It's no big deal.

**SAM**: But you remember some of it, and something happened didn't it.

**DEAN**: Nothing happened Sam, drop it.

**SAM**: You're starting to freak me out Dean, was it really that bad.

Dean mind starts flashing back to that night, as well as the night after his job in New Orleans.

_**NEW MALE VOICE**: He's so tight. You'd think a pretty little thing like this would have be fucked long before tonight._

_Male laughter is heard._

_Crying._

_**YOUNG DEAN**: Please. My daddy..._

_**MALE VOICE**: You're daddy doesn't want you anymore Deanie. _

Dean is shaking more than before, and he jerk the wheel of the car, pulling over to the side of the road. Before Sam can say another, Dean throws the car in park and rushes out of the car. Sam hurries to follow.

Luckily the highway is pretty much dead, because Dean isn't paying much attention. He crosses the highway. Once he gets to the other side, he collapses onto his knees and throws up. Sam is still standing by the car, shocked. He turns the car off, and puts the keys in his pocket before making he way across the highway.

Dean is shaking, but he's now stopped throwing up, nothing left in his system. There are tears running down his face, and Sam wants to believe that they are solely from the force of bring up any food Dean's had the last few hours, but Sam's not sure if that's truly the case. Whatever the shifter was referring to is a lot bigger than Sam anticipated.

Sam gently put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

**SAM**: Come on Dean, let's get to a motel, okay.

**DEAN**: I'm sorry.

**SAM**: Come on.

Sam helps Dean up his feet.

**SAM**: I'll drive okay, you get some rest, we'll talk about this when we get to a motel. Okay?

**DEAN**: Thanks.

Sam keeps an arm around Dean's shoulder. Sam leads his brother to the passenger side of the car, and helps him get settled. Before getting ready himself, he gets a bottled water out of his bag and gives it to Dean.

They drive for the next 20 minutes in complete silence. Sam keeps looking over at Dean, and he's worried. Dean seems completely zoned out.

For Dean, he's just trying to keep his cool. He knows that he screwed up big time. But he didn't know where all these memories were coming from, and it just made him sick. He's hoping that Sam will forget about it by the time they find a motel, but the fact that Sam keep looking at him, let's Dean know that that's not very likely to happen.

They finally find a motel, and get settled in. Sam carries in their bags. The first thing Dean does is brush his teeth. He wants to just lock himself in the bathroom, but Sam isn't giving him enough space.

Once he's almost ready for bed, except for a shower, Dean sits on the edge of his bed and rubs a hand over his tired eyes.

Sam settles down on a chair by a small table a couple feet from Dean.

**DEAN**: I'm tired Sam, I just want to have a shower, go to bed, and forget about this stupid job. That, by the way, you dragged me on.

**SAM**: We should talk about this Dean.

**DEAN**: What's the point? Whatever happened back then, happened. Talking about it does nothing. God. I've been walking on eggshells half the time around you, because I don't know how to bring up Jess, or the constant nightmares you've been having. And you know what, you don't want to talk about it. That's fine, because, frankly, I don't even know what to say. So, please, just do me the same, okay.

Sam knows what Dean's trying to do. Distract him from what's happening right now. Trying to get Sam emotionally upset because of Jessica, and forget anything the shifter may have mentioned.

**SAM**: I can't do that Dean, you were sick, on the side of the road.

**DEAN**: Must have been something I ate.

**SAM**: That's a poor attempt at deflection, even by your standards Dean. Why won't you just tell me.

**DEAN**: A lot of shit happened to us when we were young Sam, what's the point of talking about it.

**SAM**: Is this about dad?

**DEAN**: What? What does dad have to do with this?

**SAM**: Look, I know you probably don't think I know, and really I don't know why I remember this. But I remember how dad was before I knew about hunting. He was sometimes a mean drunk. And I remember, god, I must have been...I donno how old. But I remember dad beat you pretty bad one time.

**DEAN**: That was a long time ago Sam, and it only happened the one time.

**SAM**: Are you lying to me? Is that why we were taken away from dad for a day? Because someone found out he beat you? How long did it last? Is he still?

**DEAN**: No! God, Sam! You really think I'd be able to hide something like that from you growing up. You were the nosiest kid, still kind of are. Look, dad hit me a bit that one time. Him and I were just started to learn about all this supernatural stuff, it can be a little overwhelming. He apologized like crazy, and it never happened again. Sure training was touch, but that's all that was, training. He never raised a hand to me, or you for that matter after that night.

**SAM**: And you're telling me the truth.

**DEAN**: Yes, god! How can you remember something like that, but you can't remember spending whole day in that godforsaken foster home. You were a mess.

**SAM**: I was?

**DEAN**: Yeah. Look, you want to know what happened. I was started a new school, and this was before I was able to go on hunts. But I still couldn't focus at school, and I missed a lot of days staying home with you when day would take off. You weren't old enough for school yet, or you were in those half day Kindergarden things. Anyway, someone reported it. We were taken, and dad got us back later that night, end of story. I really don't know why the shapeshifter would tell you about that. Nothing happen. I swear to you.

Dean's voice shook at the end, but he hoped Sam wouldn't notice. But of course he did. Dean wasn't sure what these random memories where. But he knew he couldn't deal with them right now, even with Sam's help. He's the older brother. He looks after Sam and his family, not the other way around.

Sam's eyes are filled with tears he refuses to let fall. He can tell his brother is leaving out details, and it hurts. Not so much that Dean doesn't want to talk about them, because that's Dean. Chick-flick moments are strictly off limits 99.99% of the time.

**SAM**: Dean, I want to believe you.

**DEAN**: Sam...

**SAM**: I do, but I know you. And I'll drop it, okay. For now, I'll drop it.

Dean doesn't know what to say. This isn't like Sam. Sam always pushes a conversation as hard as he can. But maybe with everything that's happened, Sam can understand not wanted to talk about something emotionally painful.

**DEAN**: I'm going to take a shower.

**SAM**: Okay.

Sam opens up his laptop.

**DEAN**: Unless you wanted first? If you're tired.

**SAM**: No, go ahead. I'm going to start looking for a new hunt. I'm sure you want something else to kill soon, so...

**DEAN**: Okay.

Sam watches Dean as he gets ready. Dean can feel Sam's stares so he quickly grabs a clean shirt and boxers out of his bag before heading into the bathroom.

Once is the bathroom, Dean collapses on the floor. He covers his mouth with his hands. Dean is shaking, and his eyes are quickly filling up with tears.

He takes a couple deep breath and then gets to his feet. He looks around the bathroom. He wasn't able to bring anything with him, without raising questions from Sam. But the motel has to have something, a razor, anything. But he should know better, he's in a motel, not a five star hotel. After a couple a minutes of frantic searching, Dean finds nothing, and he's nearling a panic attack. He jumps when there's a knock on the door.

**SAM**: Dean? Are you alright in there?

**DEAN**: Yeah, I'm sure.

**SAM**: You sure, you've been making a lot of noise.

Dean ignores Sam and turns on the hot water all the way. He then quickly strips down and gets into the shower. The water burns his skin, but he barely feels the pain. He quickly starts rubbing his hands up and down his arms. Soon he starts running his nails into his arms. After awhile his arms are bleeding from being scrubbed too hard by nails and rough hands. And his skin is bright red from the heat of the water.

After what seem like years, the water turn cold and Dean collapses to the floor of the tub. He's trying so hard to keep his tears from falling. Because if he breaks now, he may be in this bathroom for hours.

**DEAN**: Come on Dean, pull it together. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened then, and nothing happened two months ago, and nothing is going to happen now or ever again. So snap out of it. You need to keep it together. Keep an eye on Sammy, and find you father. For fuck sakes!

Dean buries his head in his knees. He's shaking, from both the cold water and his suppressed emotions. But the water has helped make his skin seem normal, no longer a nasty shade of red. After a couple deep breath, Dean turns off the water, gets dried off, and dressed. He grabbed a long sleeved shirt again, which is good. Not sure if he can explain why his arms look like they went through a shredder. Not that any of the cuts or scratches or deep, they aren't even breeding anymore and they will probably heal pretty quickly with no scarring. But luckily Dean can hide them for now under his shirt, and go to bed without having another painful conversation with his brother.

Dean goes straight to his bed, and gets under the covers. Sam is watching Dean, and is growing more and more worried. Dean was in the shower for a very long time, definitely longer than needed to simple wash and get ready for bed.

Sam promised to drop the subject for now, but it's not forgotten.

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Hope you guys liked it. I'm still not sure when Sam will figure everything out, but you guys will learn more details in the upcoming chapters. Let me know what you think. Input, comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated. **REVIEW PLEASE!** Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

J: Thanks for the review. I will definitely change my dialogue format for this chapter and onward. I wasn't really sure what format to use, so that's for the suggestion.

And thanks to du1387, rholou, and Elle452 for your kind reviews.

I apologize that I didn't get this chapter up yesterday like I planned, the chapter took more effort than I thought, and I'm kind of nervous about posting it. Hope you all enjoy it.

This chapter has a warning of reference to slight non-con and child abuse, not overly graphic at this point. Again this is my first attempt at supernatural fanfiction. Loved to know what you all think, reviews would be awesome. Thanks. Here's the newest chapter.

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CHAPTER 4 - HOME

After dealing with an angry spirt and a hell of a lot of bug, the boys enjoy a little bit of a rest. They are currently held up in yet another dingy motel room where they've decided to rest for a couple days before taking on a new hunt.

Dean's felt anxious ever since St. Louis, but Sam kept true to his word and dropped the topic. Dean however is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, constantly thinking than any small stretch of silence will lead Sam to break and force Dean into a painful conversation with no end until Dean is spilling his guts and probably tears.

So any opportunity Dean gets, he's been researching possible hunts. He's come up with a few that might be there kind of problem. He just has wait until morning and talk Sam into ending their so called break because Dean is exhausted and needs to kill something. He's barely been able to sleep without having very weird, and very vivd nightmares. He hasn't really been able to put any of the pieces of the puzzle together, because every since the first dream, Dean has refused to sleep. Using the time Sam's sleeping to research possible gigs.

Now the motel room is almost pitch black. Only a small amount of light seeping through the bottom of the bathroom door, and the sound of the shower running. Dean is alone in the main part of the motel room as Sam is taking a shower. Dean has fallen asleep on his bed, on top of the covers. It wasn't intentionally, he was only waiting for the bathroom to be free, so he could have a cold shower to wake himself up. But the minute he stretched out onto his bed, he passed out.

The second Dean is a sleep, he is assaulted with yet another dream and he can't wake up.

_Sam and Dean is both standing in a small room, that has only a single mattress on the floor. The room has a small closet that is open and filled with boxed and old, dusty clothes. Sam looks to be about three or four years old, and Dean about eight. _

_Sam is crying, tears streaming down his face. Dean has an arm around his little brother's shoulders, trying to calm him._

"_It's all going to be alright Sammy" Dean says, as Sam buries his face in his chest and collapses to the floor. Dean tries to make the landing as soft as possible, and they both sit down._

"_Where's daddy? I want to go home? I don't like it here, please, Deanie, please." Sam says in between sobs._

_There are muffled voices heard from somewhere outside the room. Nothing distinguishable can be heard, but Dean's head snap up. He continues to rub Sam's back and he tries to listen to what is being said. After a moment, he pulls Sam off him so that he can look Sam in the eye._

"_Sammy, you need to listen to me, okay. I need to you calm down, and listen. Do you think you can do that buddy?" Dean smiles at Sam, trying to be calm and brave in his speech._

_After a couple shaky breaths, Sam nods._

"_That's my boy." Dean ruffles Sam's hair, hoping to lighten the situation. Sam lets out a small giggle. "There you go."_

_Dean wipes the tears from Sam's eyes._

"_I need you to do something for you, okay? I need you to hide in that closet. Cover yourself up so you can't be seen. I'll close the door. And you're going to stay there until I get you okay?"_

_Sam looks at Dean with a confused look on his face._

"_Why?" Sam asks. He's not sure what Dean is getting at._

"_We're going to play a game okay, hide and seek. You know that game right? We play it all the time at home." Dean smiles at Sam, hoping his little brother can't tell how scared he really is._

"_But Dean, you can't know my hiding place, that's cheating. That's not fair." Sam pouts._

_Dean smiles. _

"_I know that, but I'm going to hide too. Daddy's going to play with us okay. I just need to find Dad and tell him. Okay?" Dean says, hoping Sam doesn't see the lie._

_Sam smiles, obviously excited about seeing their father._

"_Okay" Sam says before he rushes over to the closest. _

_Once Sam is hidden under some clothes, Dean closes the closet door. _

"_Before you know it Sam, Dad will find us and we'll all go out for ice-cream. Okay?" Dean leans his head against the closet door. He can hear a muffled giggled from inside the closet. _

"_You just need to stay very quiet." Dean takes a deep breath and walks towards the door. _

Dean is starting to toss and turn, the dream clearly become more and more frighten for him to face. The dreams before this where not so specific, so Dean is terrified that he will have to watch the whole even take place. He doesn't remember what happened until now, so he can only guess what horrors took place that night.

Sam is still in the shower, and unaware of the distress his older brother is in.

_Dean backs away from the man as he enters the room. The man is older than John, his face scarred and wrinkled. The man has a creepy smile on his face. Dean keep his face un-readable, hoping that Sam stays hidden. _

"_Where's you're little brother, boy?" The man still have a smile on his face as he speaks._

"_Nowhere you'll ever find him." Dean says, with a smile on his face. Sure the closet, not the most original hidden place, but there was no way this man was getting to his baby brother._

"_That's sweet." The man says with a sneer._

_The man approaches Dean until Dean runs into the edge of the mattress on the floor. Dean nearly looses his footing, but stumbles back until his against the wall, standing on the mattress._

"_Doesn't little Sammy want to come out and play with his boy brother?" The man inches closer and closer to Dean._

"_My dad's going to kill you." Dean says. He only hopes his father got home this afternoon from his hunt like he was supposed to. If he found the motel room empty he's sure to find a way to find Sam and Dean quickly. That is, if he got home on time._

"_You're daddy doesn't want you anymore Deanie. He hates you and your brother, can't stand the sight of you. That's why your here boy." The man smiles._

"_That's not true, but keep talking. Because I'm going to enjoy watching my dad kick your ass when he finds you." Dean says with a smile, picturing the man in front of him bloody and beaten._

_The man back hands Dean across the face. Dean drops to the ground and puts a hand to his face. He was not prepared at all for the man to hit him. Sure his father hasn't trained him all that much yet, definitely not enough to beat someone this size. But he shouldn't have just dropped like that. _

"_Not so tough, are ya?" The man says as he grabs Dean by the shirt and pulls Dean to his feet. "Such a pretty little boy. Too bad your so insist on keep your brother all to yourself" _

_The man gentle caresses Dean's face with his hand. Dean's eyes widen in fear. This is new, this man isn't beating him. What does he want, Dean wonders. _

_The man kneels down so his eye level to Dean, with on hand gripping Dean's arm tightly so he can't run away._

"_Let go of me you son of a bitch." Dean says as he struggles against the man._

"_Such a pretty boy shouldn't have such a dirty mouth." The man says. _

_Dean is about to argue the man some more but is cut off as the man closes Dean's mouth with his own. Dean's eyes wide even further. Sure he's seen people kiss, especially on t.v. but this....he didn't want this._

_Dean continues to struggle. Muffled cries are cut silent as the man continues to kiss Dean forcefully. Tears start to well up in Dean's eyes, but he doesn't want to cry. Winchester's are tough, they don't cry. _

_All of a sudden Dean feels the man's hand go under his shirt, and rest above his belt. Dean finally is able to pull his mouth free as the man starts to struggle to get Dean's belt off._

"_Stop it!" Dean is beginning to panic, he doesn't like what this man is doing. He's still not really sure what's going on. But he doesn't like it. "Please, stop. I don't like this."_

"_But where's daddy? Daddy's not going to save you, is he?" The man throws Dean's belt to the ground._

_Dean closes his eyes and prays that Sam stays hidden. His eyes snap open as he man's hand go down his pants and into his boxers. Before Dean can register what is happening or protest, the man grabs onto Dean's penis and start rubbing his hand up and down._

_There is some noises coming from outside the room. Muffled sounds that neither Dean nor the man can distinguish. The noises are too far away. But Dean start to feel that maybe someone's there to rescue him, and the man sees the glimmer of hope in Dean's eyes._

"_Don't get your hopes up kid." The man says, and he turns to face the closed door, keeping his hand down Dean's pants. "The other kids are probably just getting rowdy. They probably miss me. Jealous I got a new favorite toy." _

_Dean is beginning to get angry. At himself for freezing, and at the man, who clearly abuses his power at this foster house. So he waits, and when the man turns back to face Dean, he punches the man as hard as he can in the face. _

_The man falls back, mainly from surprise. The man's hand now free from Dean's pants, he runs towards the door. Tears are now streaming down his face._

"_Daddy! I'm in here!" Dean yells as he reaches for the door handle._

"_Daddy's not coming for you boy." The man says, as he gets up off the floor. The man is pissed, his face is almost red with rage._

_The man grabs Dean and bashes his head against the door. Dean begins to feel dizzy and fall backward, but is caught by the man. The man, now on his knees so that he's again level to Dean, turns Dean around, and Dean involuntarily leans into the man's chest._

"_That's my boy." The man says, a smile creeping onto his face. _

_The man, staying on his knees, drags himself and Dean closer to the mattress, and away from the door. There is still noise coming from outside the room, getting gradually louder. Dean is no longer paying any attention to the outside world, the room is spinning and he's fighter so hard to stay awake. He does not want to pass out around this guy._

_The man slips his hand under the back of Dean's shirt and rubs his back._

"_I'm your new daddy now. I'm going to take good care of you." The man says as he hand move down Dean's back towards his pants._

_Dean is shaking, tears streaming down his face. He tries to struggle, but the knock on his head has caused him to feel dizzy and weak. Dean jumps and starts to shake even harder as the man's hand slips into his the back of his pants, and into his boxers. The man now has his hand on Dean's ass._

"_Please stop, please. I want my daddy." Dean softly cries._

_Dean jumps, clenching his eyes shut as a finger is forced into his ass. The pain, combined with fear and humiliation, is unlike anything he's ever felt before. More than the heat from the fire. More than his father's hand on his face. More than any training lessons that will begin after this night._

_Dean isn't sure how long the man moves his finger in and out of his ass, even if it felt like an eternity, in reality it could have only been a maybe a minute. Because then the man pulls away from Dean, and Dean falls to the ground, wrapping his arms around himself to create a protective ball._

_He hears yelling and what sounds to be flesh beating into flesh. Dean can't be sure how long he lays there, unaware of his surroundings. His tears dried to his cheeks. But the next thing he is aware of is being lifted into his father's arms._

"_I got ya Dean. It's okay." John says, as he rubs a gently hand over Dean's back. "I'm so sorry buddy."_

"_Daddy?" Dean says out of confusing. The haze is beginning to clear and he looks up into his face's eyes. It only takes a moment for the tears to start to fall again and Dean buries his face into his father's chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."_

"_It's okay little buddy. You're okay. Nothing happen. You're tough. I'm proud of you." John says. _

_Dean only allows himself to cry until John is finished speaking. He then pulls away from his father and wipes the tears from his eyes. _

"_I need to know where your brother is Dean? Where's Sammy?" John says sternly. The father-son bonding moment clearly over._

"_Hiding in the closet. Waiting for you. I told him we were playing hide and seek." Dean says, trying to force a smile._

"_That's my boy" John gets up off the ground, patting Dean on the head before heading over to the closet._

_Dean gets off the ground as well, and follows his father to the closet. John opens the closet and pushes some of the clothes and boxes out of the way until his finds Sam. Sam is sound asleep, clutching a dirty old blanket tightly around him. _

_Dean smiles as he forces back tears. Sam slept through the whole deal. _

_John picks up Sam. As he lifts Sam out of the closet, Sam wakes up. As Sam sees his father, his face lights up in the biggest smile._

"_You found me." Sam giggles as he hugs his father tightly._

"_Of course I did." John says as he rocks Sam back to sleep._

Dean bolts awake. The shower is no longer running, and Dean looks franticly around the motel room. He's still alone.

"Oh god. No, no, no." Dean stumbles off the bed. Why now, why did he have to remember now. Why couldn't that memory remain so deeply hidden that it could barely be classified as a memory.

Dean feels like he's going to be sick. He pushed that day out of his mind the moment Sam, John and Dean walked out of that foster home. He never asked his father what happened to the man. And John never asked his son about that day. It was just forgotten, but now...Dean know remember everything. All thanks to those punks in New Orleans and that creepy shapeshifter in St. Lois. Dragging up unwanted memories, and forcing their way back to the surface of Dean's mind.

Dean can hear Sam moving around in the bathroom. He feels sick, and runs out of the room.

Moments afterwards Sam exits the bathroom, confused to find the motel room empty.

"Dean?" Sam calls out.

Sam walks over to his phone that is on the nightstand next to his bed. But before he can call Dean, he hears the Impala speed out of the motel parking lot. Sam looks at the clock and it's well past midnight. Only one place Dean could be going, and that's the bars.

Sam could have sworn that Dean looked exhausted before he stepped into the bathroom, but clearly he was mistaken.

After Dean throws up outside their motel room, rushes to the impala, and drives away; Dean finds himself in a bar. No surprise. He downs three shots in a row before a beautiful red head takes a seat next to him.

She's exactly Dean's type, easy and probably currently drunk. She smiles, and leans close to Dean.

"Can I buy you a drink. Looks like you could use a few more. Or how about we just get outta here?" The girl smiles.

Dean looks over, and on any normal day he would have already grabs the girl by the wrist and hight-tailed it out of this bar and be halfway to a different motel by now. But today, Dean stumbles off his stool and walks straight out of the bar, leaving a very confused girl behind.

Outside, Dean slowly makes his way back to the Impala. He knows he should go back to the motel room, Sam's probably worried. Either that or he should sleep of the alcohol. He probably shouldn't be driving right now.

The fresh air starts to help clear his alcohol dizzy mind. Which at the moment, isn't welcomed. Dean starts to have trouble breathing as flashes of that man's hands assault his vision.

He rushes to the car and pops open the trunk without looking to make sure there aren't any over noisy civilians around. He starts searching, searching for anything to take the edge off. He finds a small silver knife and just stares at it.

Dean is snapped back to reality when his cell phone rings. He's tempted to ignore it, but he knows it's Sam.

"Ya Sammy? What's up?" Dean says, as he answers his phone.

"Just wanted to tell you I'm gonna crash, and um....I donno. I shouldn't have called, I just....don't get too crazy tonight. We should probably start looking for a new hunt or something in the morning. I know your itching for it. I'll see you in the morning." Sam says in a hurry.

Dean can tell Sam is worried about him for some reason. It's been a couple weeks since St. Louis. And Dean thought he was being careful the last couple days. I mean he still hasn't indulged in what his about to do since getting Sam. And while on hunts he barely thinks about, but these last few days...his skin has itches for a release.

Before Dean can say anything to put Sam at ease, Sam hangs up. Dean stares at the phone for a moment, surprised. He then stares at the knife still in his hand for a moment before throwing it back into the trunk.

Dean's pretty much sober now, but he takes a nap in the car before driving back to the motel room. Unaware that his brother too is having nightmares.

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The next morning, neither brother brings up what they did the night before. Dean is sitting at the table with Sam's laptop. The possible hunts he's been looking into up on the screen as he talks to Sam. Dean's excited Sam's done with this little vacation, if you can call it that, since neither boys have been getting much sleep. Definitely not relaxing, which should normally take place during a normal vacation.

Sam, however, is busy drawing a tree from his most recent reoccurring nightmare.

"All right. I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali...its crew vanished." Dean says as he flips through the pages he has up on Sam's laptop. Too focused on getting a hunt together. "And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey."

Dean finally looks over to notice that Sam isn't paying attention, which today, really pisses Dean off. He needs a hunt, and bad. Or else next time he finds that silver knife in the trunk, he's not going to have enough willpower to throw it back.

"Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?" Dean asks, annoyance dripping from every word he directs to Sam.

"No, I'm listening. Keep going." Sam replies, without taking his eyes off his drawings.

Dean returns to the laptop as he continues, "And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean says, as he waves his hands in Sam's direction, trying desperately to grab his little brother's attention.

"Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?" Dean asks, now directing his complete attention to his brother.

"Wait. I've seen this before." Sam says as he continues to stare at the tree he drew.

"Seen what?" Dean asks as Sam gets off the bed and starts searching through his duffle back. "What's going on Sam?"

Sam finds a family photo from when he was a baby. He compares a tree in the photo, to the tree he's been drawing and they match.

"Dean, I know where we have to go next." Sam says with new determination and focus.

"Where?" Dean asks, clearly not caring as long as a hunt is involved.

"Back home...back to Kansas." Sam says. Not sure if he can properly explain this to his brother without sounding like a lunatic.

Dean is stunned, Kansas was definitely not what he expected. And definitely not home, this is not what he needs. Not at all.

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?" Dean asks, trying to focus on Sam.

Sam approaches Dean to show him the photo as he speaks; "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah" Dean replies, totally not understanding where Sam is going with this.

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?" Sam asks quickly.

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talking about?" Dean is getting impatient.

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but...the people who live in our old house. I think...I think they might be in danger." Sam says. Not sure if Dean will buy it.

"Why would you think that?" Dean asks slowly.

"Uh...it's just, um...look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam starts to walk away, and try to get them packed up and ready to leave. Dean follows.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" Dean asks. _Is he serious?_

"Yeah." Sam says, unsure. Doesn't really blame Dean, he'd probably have the same reaction if the tables were turned.

"Come on man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more that that." Dean's initial panic has now been replaced by confusing as he tries to understand his brother.

"I can't really explain it is all." Sam says as he continues to pack up his stuff. _Come on Dean, just go with me. Stop asking, please._

"Well, tough. I'm not goin' anywhere until you do." Dean says.

_Shit._ Sam sighs before taking calming a breath. Dean just waits.

"I have these nightmares." Sam starts.

"I've noticed" Dean says cautiously, not sure where this conversation is going.

"And sometimes...they come true." Sam states slowly.

"Come again?" Dean asks, not sure that he hear his brother correctly.

Sam is shaking slightly, how does he explain this to his big brother when he hardly understands what's going on himself.

"Look, Dean...I dreamt about Jessica's death...for days before it happened." Sam says, hoping he can keep his mind on the case and not be sucked into a depression over Jess again.

"Sam, people have weird dream man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean says as he sits down on the bed.

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started man, this has to mean something, right?" Sam says in a hurry.

"I don't know." Dean's trying to process all this new information. His mind is definitely no longer on his own problems. But he's not sure what's going on.

Sam sits down on the bed across from his brother. "What do you mean you don't know Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

Dean quickly stands up. "All right, just slow down would ya?" Dean starts pacing, the conversation slowly getting to a point that Dean can't handle. He can't go back to that house, especially not now.

"I mean, first you tell me that you've got this Shinning? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when..." Dean doesn't know how to finish that sentence without coming off as weak. He's not weak, he can't be weak. Not now.

"When what?" Sam asks, slightly confused but concerned about Dean's sudden change in tone.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there." Dean says sadly as he then lowers his head. He can't look at his brother right now, he can't even think straight.

"Look, Dean." Sam tries to speak calmly and softly even thought he's freaking out. "We have to check this out. Just to make sure."

"I know we do" Dean says, but still unsure.

And before Dean knows it, they're on the road. The trip to Kansas is dead silent, not even the radio or Dean's cassettes playing distracting music. Dean's mind is racing over so many things, he's thoughts are too loud, almost giving him a headache.

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After talking to Jenny, and being in their old house again Dean is slightly panicking. He can't do this job, not alone. Sam believes this hunt may be the thing that killed Jess and their Mom. If that's the case, it's just that much bigger, too big. Dean's not sure he can be the big brother, be the protector.

Dean and Sam now find themselves at a gas station.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asks.

Sam sighs. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." Sam says.

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened." Dean replies, still trying to remain calm.

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asks cautiously, not wanting to cause Dean any more grief.

"About that night you mean?" Dean asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah."

"Like I said before, not much. I remember the fire...the heat. I can sometimes still hear her screaming..." Dean clears his throat as he tries to shake the memories flooding into his mind; this conversation is getting too much for him. "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asks. Trying to keep the conversation on Dean's terms. Knowing all this is painful for his brother.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Dean asks, confused. Sure him and his father barely ever talked about that night to Sam. But he's still surprised.

"No." Sam shakes his head.

"And well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." Dean says, feeling the panic rises as flashes of images and sounds from that night assault his memory some more.

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asks, snapping Dean back to reality unknowingly.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean says, thankful for the distraction. But it's not enough. He needs a moment away from Sam before he breaks.

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing." Sam says slowly. Hoping his brother is okay.

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean says, barely holding it together.

Sam thinks everything over, this is insane. "Does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asks his brother.

Dean can't answer that, because, no, it's not just another job. He can't do this.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean says, not waiting for a response before he leaves Sam with the Impala.

Dean walks around the corner of the gas station and stands next to the bathroom door as he takes out his cell phone. His hands are shaking like crazy. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Sam hasn't followed before he dials a number. It isn't long until John's voicemail kicks in.

Dean takes a shaky breath before he speaks. "Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em." Dean clears his throat in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. "But I'm with Sam. And we're in Lawrence. And there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but..."

Dean can't hold it in any longer, and his voice starts to break. He pauses, hoping to be able to pull the emotions back in.

"I don't know what to do." Dean says, and the emotions come, and he starts to cry. But no tears falls, as he still tries hard to repress his feelings. "So, whatever you're doing, if you could get here. Please. I need your help Dad."

Dean hangs up quickly before the tears start to fall. He silently cursing his weakness. He can't do this job, but he has no choice. What can he say to his brother, that he's too damn weak to finish this job? He can't do that either. He's stuck.

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After talking to some of their dad's old "friends", and looking through dad's journal; Sam and Dean are now waiting to see Missouri, a local psychic.

Dean is skeptical, he hasn't had many run ins with psychics, he's brother obviously new to the list. But he's for some reason very nervous to meet Missouri. He has no idea what she might already know about him, that is of course, if she's legit.

As they wait, a woman, who one can only assume to be Missouri, leads a client out of her house.

"All right, there. Don't worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." Missouri says.

Once the man is gone, Missouri exhales a long breath.

"Whew. Poor bastard. his woman is cold-bangin' the gardener." Missouri says as she turns to face Sam and Dean.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asks, clearly confused. If this woman holds back the truth, than what's the point in talking to her.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good new." Missouri says.

Sam and Dean just stare her blankly. Obviously both thinking the same thing.

"But don't you worry, I know you're here for the truth." She says.

And still, the boys don't say a word.

"Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day." Missouri says, before leaving the room.

Dean and Sam exchange a confused look before following her.

Once they enter the new room, Missouri turns to face the boys with a smile. "Well, lemme look at ya." She laughs. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome."

Missouri addresses Dean. "And you were one goofy-looking kid, too."

Dean glares at her, slightly offended and confused. Sam, however, smirks as he finds Missouri actually very amusing. That is, until the mood in the room changes drastically.

"Sam." Missouri says as she takes a hold of Sam's hand. "Oh, honey...I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Both boys are shocked. Sam can't find the words, his hand starts to shake.

"And your father...he's missing?" Missouri asks.

"How'd you know all that?' Sam asks, not trusting his voice much more than that.

Dean is surprised. It looks like Missouri is legit. "Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asks quickly.

Missouri's attention is still on Sam as she is trapped in his pain. "I don't know." She says. She feels so much of Sam's pain, it takes a lot of effort not have that pain show on her face.

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean demands. Getting impatient, he needs to find his father.

Missouri draws her attention away from Sam, clearly annoyed with Dean. Her ticked off expression falters as Dean's emotions hit Missouri like a tidal wave. She tries to hear his though, but they are so jumbled and messy, she can barely hear anything that makes sense. She fixes her gaze, hoping neither Sam nor Dean saw the slight falter in her expression.

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air." Dean seems shocked, which just shows that he didn't notices her falter before she spoke. She doesn't want to spook Dean into closing down completely.

"Sit, please." Missouri motions for the boys to sit on the couch, opposed her chair. Missouri sits down.

Sam smirks at Dean as they too sit down. Dean is getting comfy, glad that the conversation is staying on track. He was worried after she was able to read Sam, that she too might be able to read him. But clearly she hasn't. Or else, she would have said something.

He's mind is still working overtime, as he sits back and prepares to put his feet up, but jumps when he hears Missouri snap at him. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, and I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!"

"I didn't do anything." Dean says, trying pointlessly to defend himself.

"But you were thinking about it." Missouri states.

Dean raises his eyebrows, clearly frustrated. While Sam smiles, clearly entertained.

Missouri explains to the boys what happened when their father first came to her. The boys try to take in the new information, and Missouri can tell that they are both very overwhelmed, but for various, and mostly separate reasons.

Once Missouri agrees to meet the boys back at the house in a couple hours, she's finally able to get Sam and Dean out of her house. Once they leave, Missouri collapses against the door. Dean's thoughts still hitting his like a train. Tears start rolling down her face as she realizes all the pain Dean is keeping inside and away from the outside away, away from those who love him, and some, ever away from himself.

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Sam and Dean find themselves sitting outside their old house again. It's dark out, and Dean is fidgeting in his seat. He doesn't understand why they're not five towns over by now. Missouri helped them with a weird spell that almost got Sam killed. She even said everything was fine. So why was Sam so insistent that they stay the night, parked outside their old house like some insane stalker type creeps. Dean is barely holding it together. He needs a night out at a bar, get drunk. Forget.

But quickly everything goes to hell as Sam's vision becomes a reality.

Now Dean is stuck outside, while Sam is being thrown around the house. Dean is panicking, but he's so focused on getting to his brother that his mind has almost shut everything else out.

Once inside the house, Dean starts calling for his brother. "Sam? Sam!"

He finds Sam pinned against the china cabinet, and a figure on fire approaching them both. He quickly steps between his brother and the figure, raising his gun.

Before Dean can pull the trigger, he hears Sam cry out to him. "No, don't! Don't!"

"What, why?!" Dean yells, clearly confused.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now." Sam says calmly.

Before Dean can ask what Sam is talking about, the fire vanishes. Now their mother, Mary Winchester, is standing in front of them. She looks exactly like she did the night she died.

Dean's expression softens. He's shocked, and drops the gun to his side.

"Mom?" Dean asks softly. Dean can't believe what he's seeing.

Mary smiles and steps closer to Dean. "Dean." Mary says.

Tears start to build up in Dean's eyes as Mary walks past him, towards Sam. His breathing starts to become more erratic, but he refuses to take his eyes off his mother, even if it's tearing him apart to see her again.

"Sam" Mary smile slowly fades as she looks over Sam, who begins to cry. He tries to smile through his tears. "I'm sorry." Mary says.

"For what?" Sam asks, confused.

Mary does not respond to Sam, but slowly walks away. She looks up at the ceiling as she speaks. "You get out of my house. And let go of my son.

Again, Mary bursts into flames. When she's completely covered, the fire explodes to the ceiling and disappears.

The house is completely silent.

Sam is released from the wall, still staring at the ceiling. He's stopped crying, but tears are still visible on his cheeks. "Now it's over." Sam states.

When Sam finally draws his attention back to Dean, he freezes. Dean is bent over, his hands on his knees. His breathing is coming out in short painful busts, as his he's having trouble bringing air into his lungs.

Dean is panicking, he can't breath. Tears are running down his face. Seeing his mother, again, after so long. Then for her to just...seeing her burn into flames brought back terrible feelings that Dean suppressed years and years ago. He can feel Sam's stare, but he can't seem to snap out of his panic attack.

"Dean?" Sam asks quietly. Sam's never seen his brother have a panic attack before. Even when Dean was forced onto a plane, Sam seems to think Dean was calmer then as opposed to now.

Sam slowly approaches Dean, and kneels down next to his brother. Sam is shocked at what he sees. Dean desperate for air, tears running down his face.

"Shit, Dean. Just..." Sam slowly stretches out a shaky hand. "You just need to breath, calm..."

As Sam's hand barely touches Dean's back, Dean jerks away and stands up. Sam quickly stumbles to his feet, unsure where Dean's head is at. Before Sam can think of what to do or say, Dean walks out of the room.

Dean walks out of the house, exiting through a back door. He collapses onto his knees and screams at the top of his lungs until his lungs can't take it anymore and he starts to cough. Air being forced back into his lungs.

Sam, still inside, hears Dean's scream. Every instinct tells him to run to his brother. But he's frozen in place.

After both boys collect themselves, they both meet outside. Jenny and her kids clearly still scared on the front lawn. After a small talk, Jenny insists that the boys get some rest. That they are welcome back in the morning to make sure everything is sorted.

Sam insists he should drive, and Dean doesn't even argue. They drive silently to their motel room.

Once inside Dean just lays down onto his bed, without taking off his jacket or his shoes. He just stares at the wall ahead of him.

Sam is disturbed by the haunted and vacant look in Dean's eyes.

"Get some rest Dean, we'll head out in the morning." Sam says, but doesn't expect a response.

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The next morning, when Sam wake up, he notices that Dean has already packed up the car. Dean is acting like his usually self. Sam's not sure if he should be freaked or relieved.

Sam and Dean head back to their old home. Sam waits on the front steps for Missouri to finish a sweep of the house; while Dean talks to Jenny by the Impala.

Jenny watches as Dean looks through the old photos she found in the basement.

"Thanks for these." Dean forces a smile as he looks over the happy memories documented of life before the fire.

"Don't thank me, they're yours." Jenny says.

Dean puts the photos into the trunk of the car as Jenny walks into her house, passing Sam on the way.

Dean looks at Sam, who seems deep in thought. Dean feels terrible for what happened last night. He has no idea why he acted the ways he did, and he hates that Sam saw him in that kind of a state. So Dean, leans against the trunk of the car and waits for Sam to be ready to leave. Hoping that what happened last night isn't the other shoe dropping, which will cause Sam wanting to talk.

After a moment Missouri exits the house and takes a seat next to Sam on the front steps.

"Well, there's no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure." Missouri tells Sam.

Missouri looks over at Dean, and she can't hear a single thought. It's like he's shut down, which makes Missouri ache. Sam however, is not suppressing his pain or grieve over what has taken place over the last couple days.

"Not even my mom?" Sam asks sadly.

"No." Missouri hates that these two brothers are in so much pain. Even if Dean seems to be able to simple detach himself.

"What happened?" Sam is still staring at the ground. Refusing to meet Missouri's stare.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing." Missouri states.

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asks.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course." Missouri tells Sam.

Sam nods, and his eyes fill with tears. Missouri goes to put her hand on his shoulder, but pulls back before she makes contact.

"Sam, I'm sorry." Missouri goes back to staring at the ground.

"For what?" Sam finally looks to Missouri, confused by the fact people keep apologizing to him.

"You sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't." Missouri looks back to Sam, and can hear his fears.

"What's happening to me?" Sam asks, not sure he really wants to know the answer.

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know." Missouri says.

The two sits in silence for a while.

Sam then looks across the street and watches his brother. Dean is still just leaning against the trunk of his car, staring off into the distance. Missouri follows Sam's gaze, and she too looks over at Dean. She can hear Sam's attention shift, and his worries for his brother being brought to the forefront of his thoughts.

"I know your worried about him Sam." Missouri says.

Sam jumps at the sound of Missouri's voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Or read you, for that matter. But you boys, you're thoughts are just screaming at me." Missouri says sadly.

"What is he thinking...I can't. He won't...you should have seen him last night. I've never seen him so wretched. I new this hunt would be too much for him. Hell, I've been worried about him long before this. But I'm sure you already knew that." Sam says, with a sad smile.

"You just have to give him some time Sam. He'll open up to you soon enough." Missouri says.

"How do you know, you said so yourself, you can't pull facts out of thin air." Sam says, as tears start to fall down his face. The stress of the hunt, worrying about his father, about Dean, and losing Jessica becoming too much to hold back.

"I'm so sorry Sam. I wish things were better. Take your time. I'm goin' to go say goodbye to your brother, okay?" Missouri gets up off the steps.

Sam can only nod as tears continue down his cheeks.

Missouri makes her way across the street, and leans against the trunk of Dean's car, next to Dean. Dean barely acknowledges her, but he knows he has company.

"That boys worried about you." Missouri says.

"The house clean?" Dean asks, not wanting to have a personal conversation with a human lie detector.

"Yes." Missouri says as Dean stands up and starts to walk towards the drivers side of the car.

Missouri gets off the trunk as well, and steps in front of Dean.

"I know you feel like your fallin' Dean, but Sam right here for ya." Missouri states sadly.

"Don't go poking around my head lady." Dean says angrily.

Dean tries to move around Missouri again, but this time Missouri places a gently hand on Dean's arm. It takes Dean a moment to realize her hand is covering the cut on his arm that he caused before picking up his brother.

"I know you think this helps you. And I know it's drivin' you crazy playing it safe. And I know you're scared. Scared of a lot of things." Missouri says calmly, not want to freak Dean away.

"You know shit about me." Dean says angrily as he pulls free from Missouri's grip. "Sam, you ready?" Dean looks over to Sam, who has calmed himself down.

"Yeah" Sam says as he picks himself off the steps and wipes the tears from his face.

Sam walks towards the Impala. Dean gets into the driver seat, ignoring Missouri's stares as he slams the door shut. Effectively, if not childishly, ending the conversation.

"Don't you boys be strangers." Missouri says, trying to sound pleasant, even though she's annoyed with Dean's stubbornness, that he clearly picked up from his father.

"We won't" Sam forces a smile as he gets into the passenger side of the car.

"See you around." Missouri says as the Impala speeds away from her. She stares in the direction the Impala left, lightly shaking her head, before turning towards her own house and leaving.

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Missouri enters her house. She's still clearly upset from his visit with the Winchester boys.

"That boy...he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea." Missouri says, as she enters the living room to join John, who is sitting on the couch.

"Mary's spirit...do you really think she saved the boys?" John asks, staring at his hands, refusing to look up at the woman that is now seated in front of him. He knows Missouri too well, knows that he's able to read people's thoughts.

"I do." Missouri says. She's not trying to pry into his mind, because there is just too much to talk about.

John just nods sadly as he twists his wedding ring on his finger. Missouri can feel that stubbornness she felt from Dean moments ago.

"John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children? They're falling apart." Missouri knows this conversation will not end the way she wants, and she doesn't need to be a psychic to know this.

"They're tough." John states.

"They're trying to be though for each other, you've raised them well. But they aren't soldiers John. Sam's hurting, he's in the mental state you were in over twenty years ago." Missouri tells John sadly.

"I know, I was there. I wish I got there sooner. You know that, you know that I never wanted this for Sam." John finally lifts his gaze to look at Missouri.

"And Dean?" Missouri asks.

"Something happen to Dean?" John asks, getting worried.

"You know I don't like to read people that don't want to be read. But those boys, they have so many thoughts, and they were screaming at me." Missouri says, tears starting to form in her eyes. "I could barely hear what Dean was thinking, he's so scared."

"Scared? That doesn't sound like my boy." John says.

"He's always scared. But you trained him well, he pushes so much of himself away in order to do the hunt, to protect his brother." Missouri tells John.

"What did you hear Missouri." John is starting to get worried and impatient.

"A lot of jumbled thoughts. He didn't want to be here, back in Lawrence. There was also something about New Orleans that he was trying very hard not to think about. He's worried about Sam. Also something about a man he met in a foster home, this was screaming at him. He was trying so hard to push that thought out of his mind, but...I don't know, John, there is so much that that boy of yours isn't dealing with. Does anything of this make sense to you?" Missouri asks.

"Um...well, it doesn't surprise me that he didn't want to be here. I don't even want to be here." John says sadly.

"I know you don't John." Missouri feels Johns pain. John, like Dean, has so many thoughts swimming through his mind. But Missouri wants to focus the conversation on Dean for the moment, it feels important.

"Uh...as for the rest. Doesn't surprise me about Sam either. And his last hunt before Jessica's death was in New Orleans. As far as I know the hunt was fine. I got some voice-mail messages from Dean, nothing out of the ordinary. But that is when I stopped contact with him, so...maybe...I donno. But Dean's tough Missouri, they'll help each other." John starts to stare at his wedding ring again, no wanting to bring up the events that took place at that foster house that he's sure Missouri is referring to.

"John, I know you know what I'm asking you about. What happened to Dean that night? It has to be big because it seems he locked it away for a long time. It only recent came back into his mind. I don't know why, but..." Missouri sighs. "I really think you could help your son, both of them, if you just talked to them."

"The foster home thing was a long time ago. I was on hunt, and came home to find my boys gone. Didn't take me long to figure out what happened and where they were." John finally meets Missouri gaze, even though his mind is telling him not to. "When I found him, a man, I still don't know who is he. He had Dean in a hold. When I entered the room, Dean just dropped to the ground. I think he might have been hit a couple times. Sam was fine, Dean hid him in the closet. Dean, he was a wreck. He actually cried, which he rarely does...did, even at that age. He's always brave, and he always keeps up appearances." John says.

"Damn it John, that boy was...how old?" Missouri concentrates on searching John's mind. "Eight, he was eight years old! Of course he was scared."

"I don't know exactly what happened to him in that room, I can only assume. Dean never talked about it and I never asked. But that was years ago, how is that important now." John asks.

"Because your boy is falling apart, and now matter how much Sam is there for him, he's not going to open up to him and you know it. He's going to break, sooner or later. Do you really still want to be hidden when that happens?" Missouri says. She doesn't want to be cruel to John, but she needs to push him.

"I'm not hiding. It's too dangerous for them and you know that. Especially if what you're telling me is true. The boys are safe together, away from this. I can't..." John stops talking and Missouri can hear all the possible ends to the sentence. The fear of putting his children in more danger. Loosing them to the same thing that stole Mary from him.

John's eyes fill with tears. "You know I want to just go and be there for them, be the father they deserve. You have no idea how much I wanna see them. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth." John keeps his eyes on Missouri, no matter how painful.

Missouri wishes the Winchesters weren't stuck in the middle of this war, that is clearly more important to John than anything else. Vengeance has kept this torn family apart. No matter how much Missouri disagrees, she knows no amount of talking can change John's mind. She only hopes that Sam and Dean can survive the pressure that is growing inside them both of them.

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Hope this chapter was okay, and I'd love to hear what you all thought. **REVIEWS** would be awesome. Next chapter is already in the making and should be up very soon. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

J: Thanks again for the kind review. I hope the story continues to be go to your liking. And I hope you enjoy this chapter.

And thanks to du1387, dreamgirl193, rholou, Elle452 for your kind reviews.

Little nervous about this chapter, not sure if you'll all like it. But again this is my first attempt at supernatural fanfiction. And I'd love to know what you all think, reviews would be awesome. So if you don't like what I'm doing to the story, and/or let me know if you're still liking it. Thanks.

Chapter Note: The timeline may be a little different. I don't think it's been six months, but for the sake of the story, I am saying it's been six months since Dean finished his job in New Orleans.

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**CHAPTER 5 - FAITH**

After leaving Lawrence, Dean thought he'd never be able to think straight. That night, seeing his mom, he felt like he was drowning, he couldn't breath. But things have changed. It only takes getting shot with rock-salt, having your brother leave you, getting kidnapped by a town full of nut jobs, and almost sacrificed to a pagan god to make you forget about the scary man in your head, the weakness you feel in your gut, and make you forget about the need to self inflict some pain.

Now Dean lays alone, in a hospital bed, flipping through the channels of a television that is set up at the foot of his bed. The doctor just told him he's dying. Any normal person would be upset, cry. But Dean is exhausted. Exhausted of hiding, exhausted trying so hard every damn day to be what is excepted of him. But he doesn't want to die. For the most obvious reason, Sam. Sam's already lost so much, so fast. For him to lose Dean before finding their father, he might just break.

Sam's probably getting the news from the doctor right now, which makes Dean uncomfortable. He knows he hasn't exactly been a very good brother to Sam later. But Dean already is not looking forward to Sam entering his room.

After running through hundreds of possible of conversations and reactions, Dean doesn't feel any more prepared to handle how Sam might be when he walks into his room. Dean just has to be himself, the self he created that is.

Sam finally enters Dean's hospital room. As expected, he looks a mess. Like he's trying so hard to keep from breaking in front of Dean. Like he's trying to be brave, trying to be the strong big brother in this situation. Which makes Dean that much more uncomfortable. He hates being seen as weak in anyone's eyes, especially his family.

Sam didn't expect to see his brother so pale and fragile looking. It took every strength that Sam had to keep the tears at bay. He has yet to notice the scar on Dean's arm that stand out against Dean's flesh. The wounded healed now, and ugly, just as Dean anticipated. The hospital shirt not quite covering it. And if Sam really wanted to take the time, he could probably find thin, pale, white lines covering Dean's pale arms. But they are so faint, he probably won't notice them, to Dean's relief.

Dean keeps his focus on the television, even though he knows Sam is in the room. "Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible."

Sam sighs. Doesn't surprise him that Dean's sticking to the humor attempts to mask what he's really feel. "I talked to your doctor." Sam tells Dean, even though he's sure Dean already knows that.

"That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down." Dean keeps his attention on the television, not wanting to see the wretched look he can only assume his displayed on his brother's face.

"Dean." _Please look at me._ Sam thought, leaving the words hanging in the air unsaid.

"Yeah." Dean turns off the TV and finally looks at brother. "Alright, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me."

"What are you talking about? I'm not gonna leave you." Sam can't believe Dean is just giving up. He can't have this conversation. Sam feels like the walls of the room are closing in on him.

"Hey, you better take care of that car. Or I swear, I'll haunt your ass." Dean says, as he tries to smile. He knows he shouldn't be joking right now, but it's all he can do.

"I don't think that's funny." Sam says, as he fight so desperately not to cry. He needs to be strong, for both of them.

"Oh come on, it's a little funny." Dean replies, still trying to keep the mood light. But when he really looks at his brother, he can see how much pain he's in. "Look, Sammy, what can I say man. It's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

"Don't talk like that, alright. We still have options." Sam says with determination. He is not willing to watch another person he loves die.

"What options? Yeah, burial or cremation." Dean's not trying to be cruel, but he doesn't want his brother to have any false hope. Hope, miracles, they don't exist. "And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it."

"Watch me." Sam states coldly.

Both brothers go quiet. The room being filled with an awkward silence. After a moment Sam pulls up a chair and sits down at the edge of Dean's bed. After taking a few deep breaths, Sam looks up to Dean again. This time taking a good look at him, noticing for the first time the scar on Dean's arm.

"Where did that come from?" Sam asks, his voice low and soft. His emotions still fighting to break free.

"What?" Dean looks over to Sam, confused.

Sam points to Dean's arm, and Dean follows his eye line. He looks at the scar on his arm, _shit, shit, shit_.

"That? It looks new. It also doesn't look like it was treated." Sam says, waiting.

"Oh, that. Yeah, um...you remember I told you about my solo hunt before picking you up from...from Stanford." Dean hates bring up Stanford, it still feels to soon. The place still is a strong reminder of Jess.

But Sam is trying hard to suppress all his emotions, and frowns. He looks to the floor, his hands fidgeting on his lap. He knows it's weird to just start such a casual conversation, but it's something Sam desperately needs right now.

"I remember you telling me you were in New Orleans, but you never gave me any details. Things got a little crazy. I forgot to ask about it, and you never brought it up. I just assumed it was a regular job." Sam says.

"It was." Dean says, trying to buy a little more time as his mind formulates a lie. "Had a run in with this crazy voodoo, black magic bitch. She cut me pretty good with this insane looking danger before I did her in."

The room goes silent again, and Dean is holding his breath without really meaning to. Hoping Sam believes his fabricated story.

Sam frowns, and Dean begins to panic, thinking Sam sees through his bullshit. "Huh. So...why didn't you stitch it up?" Sam says, still not looking at Dean.

Dean quietly lets out of shaky breath, relieved. "Oh, um...that's when dad kind of dropped off the face of the earth. Stitches myself up after the hunt was done wasn't really high up on my list of things to do."

"Makes sense I guess." Sam continues to stare off at nothing.

"Look, I know this is tough. If the situation was reversed I'd probably go insane trying to find a way to save you. But that's just it Sam, there's no cure for this. You're just going to have to let me go. Maybe go back to school, start a new..." Dean is cut off as Sam stands up abruptly, knocking his chair to the ground.

"Don't you fucking dare tell me to just start a new life." Sam stares at Dean for a moment, as tears finally start to escape down his face. He mentally curses himself and looks away from Dean.

"I'm going back to the motel. You should get some rest. And I'll be back when I find a way to save you." Sam doesn't wait for a response from Dean as he storms out of the room.

Dean is shocked, but not completely surprised.

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Sam is sitting on a bed in their motel room. The bed is covered in research; printed documents, as well has hand written notes. Sam's laptop is also open in front of him.

Sam is holding back tears as he tightly presses his cellphone to his ear, listening to his father's voicemail. He takes a deep breath before leaving his message, trying hard not to break down on the phone.

"Hey Dad. It's Sam. Uh...you probably won't even get this, but...It's Dean. He's sick, and uh...the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um...but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So don't worry, cause, uh...I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright...just wanted you to know." Sam hangs up the phone, and tosses onto the bed in front of him.

Sam takes a deep breath and scrubs a hand over his face. His eyes are filled with tears, that are desperate to escape down his face.

There's a knock at the door. Sam jumps, tears making their way down his face with the abrupt movement. Sam takes the time to wipe his face, cleaning off the tears, as he slowly makes his way towards the door. He's shocked to see Dean standing outside when he opens the door.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam demands, noting Dean's appearance. He looks worse than when he left him back at the hospital.

"I checked myself out." Dean smiles as he painfully tries to stand up from the wall he's currently leaning against.

"What, are you crazy?" Sam puts out a hand to help, and is surprised when Dean doesn't automatically pulls away.

"Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot." Dean says as he enters the motel room, shrugging Sam off once he gets his balance.

Sam watches Dean enters the motel room, not bother to follow as he closes the door.

"You know, this whole 1-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it." Sam says as he notices Dean no longer making an effort to move, leaning against the near by table.

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me." Dean allows Sam to help him into the chair next to the table he is currently leaning against.

Once Dean is settled in, Sam sits down on the bed across from Dean, minding all the paper.

"I've been scouring the Internet the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal." Sam smiles, trying not to cry. The last three days have been hell. Desperate searching for a cure as Dean gives up in the hospital.

"For what?" Dean asks as he tries not to concentrate on the pain.

"For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist." Sam says with a hint of hope in his voice.

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he's willing to go along with Sam if that's what his brother needs.

"I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going." Sam gets off the bed and starts picking off his research.

Dean groans. "Not this second, right?"

Sam looks over to Dean, who is clearly exhausted from his hospital escaped. "First thing in the morning."

"Good." Dean relaxes back into the chair.

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The Impala pulls up outside of a large white tent. There are several people, most of which look very sick, who are making their way towards the tent.

Dean opens the passenger door and sees a sign that reads; "The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle." Dean rolls his eyes, and lets out an annoyed groan. A faith healer, his brother brought to a damn faith healer. He was pissed.

Sam quickly makes his way around the car to Dean, as Dean tries to get out by himself.

"I got ya." Sam says and he helps Dean out of the car. Dean grunts in pain.

Once Dean is standing he pulls free from Sam. "I got it."

Sam lets go of Dean, a little hurt, but not at all surprised.

"Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor." There was no way he was walking into that damn tent. Dean is pissed, because he knew he really didn't have a choice. He agreed to come in order to help his brother deal with his death any way her could. But this was just ridiculous.

"I believe I said a specialist. Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal." Sam says as they slowly start to make their way towards the tent. He knows he should have been more specific before they left, but he knew Dean would never have gone for this. And Sam was desperate.

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent." Dean is really pissed. Sure, he doesn't want to die, but he knew for a fact that this was a crock of shit.

"Revered LeGrange is a great man." Dean hears some woman says as she passes them.

"Yeah, that's nice." Dean says, his voice dripping thickly with sarcasm.

As Sam and Dean get closer to the tent, they pass an angry man who is the middle of a heated discussion with a sheriff.

"I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he's bilking all these people out of their hard-earned money." The man shouts.

"Sir, this is a place of worship. Let's go. Move it." The sheriff says, as he starts to pull the man away from the tent.

"I take it he's not part of the flock." Dean says to Sam.

"When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy." Sam's not sure he believe either, but he has no other option. He needs this to be real so badly.

"I mean, come on Sam, a faith healer?" Dean knows arguing with Sam right now is pointless, but he's not going into that tent without bugging Sam as much as possible.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean." Sam sure knows he probably has more than enough faith for the both of them right now.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on." Dean is simply surprised that Sam is actually serious. But desperation is a scary thing sometimes.

"How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday?" Sam asks.

"Exactly. We see them, we know they're real." Dean stops in front of the tent, trying to delay Sam's disappointment.

Sam stops, knowing Dean's stalling. "But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people." Dean says sadly. His family definitely included.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." Dean turns to see a young blond woman standing in front of the tent entrance, looking at him.

Dean admits she's attractive, even if he's not in the mood to be a gigantic flirt, he puts on the facade. "May he does."

Layla smiles. "I think you just turned me around on the subject." Dean says, hoping his smile comes off a genuine and not forced.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Layla says, still smiling.

Dean extends a hand towards Layla. "I'm Dean. This is Sam." Layla shakes his hand.

"Layla. So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?" Layla asks.

"Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us." Dean looks over to his brother for a moment, before smiling at Layla again.

Before Layla can say anything, her mother approaches. "Come on Layla. It's about to starts.

Layla smiles and follows her mother into the tent.

"Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways." Dean smiles.

Sam smiles, shaking his own. Only Dean can remain like this while facing down death.

They both enter the tent and they both freeze in the entrance. Dean looks over the crowded tent. So many sick people, all hoping for a miracle. He almost feels sick. He then notices a security camera on a wall in the corner of the tent. He nudges Sam in the arm, and points towards towards the camera.

"Yeah, peace, love and trust all over." Dean says.

Sam looks over to the security camera as Dean starts to move towards some open seats in front of them. Sam notices Dean's movements and sees that Dean is planning on sitting in the back, which definitely won't work.

"Come on." Sam grabs Dean gently by the arm.

"What are you doing? Let's sit here." If they can just sit through this thing, and go by unnoticed, Sam can then see that this Roy fellow is a complete hack and start dealing with the inevitable.

"We're sitting up front." Sam starts to walk towards the front of the tent, towards the stage. He gentle pulls Dean along with him.

"What? Why?" Dean verbally protests, unable to psychically pull away. Not wanting to hurt his brother anymore.

"Come on." Sam and Dean make their way to the front of the room.

"Oh, come on Sam." Dean is getting upset. Both angry and uncomfortable as they get closer to the front of the room.

"You alright?" Sam asks.

"This is ridiculous. I'm good dude, get off me." Dean pushes Sam away from his as they are near the front of the tent. He then sees Sam point to two empty seats behind Layla and he mother. Which would put them in the second row.

"Perfect." Sam says with a smile as he walks towards the chairs.

"Yeah, perfect." Dean says, sarcastically. He looks around the room again at all the sick people, and he begins to feel uneasy again.

"You take the aisle." Sam says as he takes his seat. Not waiting for Dean to respond.

Dean takes his seat as Roy LeGrange gets up on stage to start the service. This is when Dean notices that Roy is blind, as he's wearing sunglasses. His wife walks onstage next to him.

The crowd goes quiet, in anticipation of Roy's words.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good does it?" Roy asks, and the crow voices their agreement. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

Dean's never had a problem with religious figures. His father being friends with a hunter/pastor, Jim Murphy, who Dean stayed with sometimes when he and Sam were too young to go hunting with their father. But the man standing in front of Dean now...he can't believe it. Being religious is one thing, but using other people's faith to pray on the sick, is just...well, sick, Dean thinks.

Sam on the other hand is busy looking at what is on stage with Roy. There is a table filled with crosses and other religious items. His attention, however, is quickly drawn to an old cross that has another cross on top with a circle around it.

"But I say to you, God is watching. God rewards the good, and he punishes the corrupt." Roy says, as the crowds answers with nodding, cheering and murmuring. "Who does the healing here, friends? The Lord, who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

The crowd murmurs around Dean, and he's amazed that everyone in the room believes the words out of this guys mouth. "Yeah, or into their wallets." Dean says quietly to Sam.

Sam is not impressed. He simply ignores his brother, hoping no one else heard. If only he was that lucky.

"You think so, young man?" Roy asks, as the church goes completely silent.

Dean looks around, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The crowd laughs at Roy's attempt at a joke. "What's your name, son?"

Dean's hesitates. He doesn't want to be on Roy's radar. He wanted to go by unnoticed. Let Sam watch Roy's failed attempts at healing a stranger. Not this. "Dean."

"Dean. I want...I want you to come up here with me." Roy says, as Sue Ann smiles, welcoming Dean.

The crowd claps and cheers, making Dean even that much more uncomfortable. He can't see Layla and her mother's looks of disappoint as Layla is yet again looked over.

"No, that's okay." Dean says, knowing his brother is going to be upset. Even if this guy is the real deal, there are so many people in this room. So many more people, much more deserving.

"What are you doing?" Sam asks. Clearly pissed already.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" Roy asks, his hand extended, trying to encourage Dean to come on stage.

"Well, yeah, but..." The crowd cheers some more, making Dean's voice falter. "No, maybe you should just pick someone else."

The crowd claps loudly, trying to also encourage Dean to take the stage. Why are these people clapping? Dean wonders, don't they want to be healed, shouldn't they be upset that they aren't being chosen.

"Oh no, I didn't pick you Dean, the Lord did." Roy says, still extending his hand for Dean.

The crowd continues to clap and yell out encouragements. Sam is starting to get excited, he really didn't expect them to get picked on their first day. He nudges Dean. "Get up there!"

Dean is reluctant, but he can't deny Sam this. His brother looks so hopeful. Dean wishes he could beat this prick for what he is doing do these people, and to his brother. And he'd probably do it too, if he was absolutely positive the whole room would most definitely mob him. So Dean slowly get off his chair and makes his way to the stage, looking very uncomfortable.

Once on stage, Roy smiles. "You ready?" He asks.

"Look, no disrespect, but I'm not exactly a believer." Dean tells Roy.

"You will be, son. You will be. Pray with me, friends." Roy says and he lifts up his hands.

The crowd follows Roy, by lifting up their arms and joining hands with each other. Roy then places a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean and Sam both are extremely nervous. Both wanting this to work for the sake of the other brother.

Roy's hand moves to Dean's forehead. Dean is getting more and more uncomfortable. If he prayed, he would so that Sam wouldn't have to face this. But Dean knows this is only going to cause Sam more pain. After a moment of feeling ridiculous, with a strange man's hand on his forehead, Dean suddenly starts to feel odd.

"Alright, now. Alright, now." Roy says, clearly aware of what is taking place.

Dean starts to feel weak and dizzy. He closes his eyes, hoping to stop this feeling, but this only results in him slowly falling to his knees as Roy continues to speak.

Dean tries so hard to stay up straight, not liking the feel that has washed over him. No matter how hard Dean fight, he soon collapses onto the floor. The crowd cheers loudly.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, as he rushes to the stage. Sam shakes Dean, started to freak out. _What the hell just happened._

Dean then suddenly busts awake, gasping for breath.

"Say something." Sam yells, still panicking. There's something in Dean's eyes that is unsettling.

Dean tries to get the room to stop spinning. As his vision clears he sees an old, who's clearly dead, on the stage next to Roy. The man is dressed in a black suit, and has white hair. He looks at Dean for a moment before vanishing, leaving Dean completely shocked.

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Sam and Dean are waiting in a hospital room. Dean is completely silent. He can't shake this feeling he has. Something about Roy and what happened in that tent just isn't right.

But Dean is also uneasy about being in a hospital again. When he was brought in after being electrocuted, he was in and out of it for some long, he barely was able to register where he was. And then when he finally was able to, he was told he was going to die.

Dean's never liked hospitals, but now he's getting more uncomfortable. Last time he was in a hospital was after he finished his job in New Orleans. He normally hates hospital, and didn't want to go to one back then. But after he was...attack, if that's what you'd call it. He knew he had no choice. All his tests came by clean but...somethings, he was told, don't show up until much later.

But if he's going to die, he doesn't have to worry about any of that.

Sam however, is a bundle of nerves for a totally different reason. Sure, like Dean, he too isn't a big fan of hospital. But now, he had a good feeling, he was staying positive.

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asks for like the hundredth time.

Dean has no idea how long they've been waiting. "I feel fine Sam." Dean replies, no emotion in his voice.

A nurse then enters the room, looking over some paperwork.

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was." The nurse tells the boys.

Dean is confused. He should be happy, but...how is this possible. Sam on the other had is very, very happy.

"Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still it's strange, it does happen." The nurse continues.

"What do you mean, strange?" Dean asks.

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack." The nurse tells Dean.

"Thanks, Doc." Dean replies, now filled with a new level of concern.

"Oh, no problem." The nurse then leaves.

"That's odd." Dean says, not looking at his brother.

"Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, man." Sam says, not wanting to push the subject. Dean is healthy, he's happy, that's all that matters, right?

"No, they don't." Dean states.

"Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?" Sam asks.

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why." Dean says, as he finally looks at his brother.

"What feeling?" Sam asks. Not wanting to upset his brother.

"When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second, I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, Sam, it was a spirit." Dean said with a new found determination.

"But if there was something there, Dean, i think I would've seen it too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam admits, not likely to bring up the psychic thing.

"Well, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this." Dean says, not wanted to get into an argument with his little brother right now, but Sam is leaving him no choice.

"Yeah, alright." Sam says reluctantly. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. I'm gonna visit the reverend." Dean tells Sam.

"Be careful Dean, don't do something stupid." Sam says.

Dean ignores the comment and fishes his car keys out of his pocket. "Here, take the Impala. I'll take a cab."

Sam looks at Dean with suspicion, confused.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Nothing, um...are you sure you're okay?" Sam asks, suddenly getting a strange vibe from his older brother.

"Yeah, I just...can't shake this feeling. And still a little dizzy at times, so I don't want to drive." Dean lies. He needs to do something more at the hospital and can't have Sam around.

"Okay." Sam takes the car keys from Dean.

Dean stays seated as he takes out of cellphone. Sam is at the doorway when he realizes Dean isn't following him. He looks back at his brother. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to call a cab. You can go ahead. I'll meet you back at the motel." Dean looks down at his cellphone, flipping it open. Ignoring his brother's concerned stare.

"Okay." Sam says and slowly leaves the room.

Dean exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Now that he wasn't dying, he did need to take care of himself. He knew this day was coming sooner or later. It's been a little over six months since the incident in New Orleans. It doesn't feel like it's already been that long, but a lot has happened in that time. Besides, who knows when he'll have be able to get rid of his brother again in order to visit a clinic. Well, that's no really true. Dean's good at deceiving those around him, so...but this is much convenient, so he might as well get it over with.

Dean knows he should be focused on this Roy LeGrange thing, but he can't completely focus on that if he doesn't get this done. He's been denying what happened to him, and he still is in a way. He still can admit it to himself, and he definitely can't talk to Sam. But he's hasn't completely suppressed the event. He knows generally what happened, even if he doesn't completely remember the event.

Dean is slightly shaking as the nurse re-enters the room carrying a pile of charts, and surprised to see Dean still seating there.

"Oh, I thought you left. Was there something else you needed to discuss?" She asks.

Dean clears his though. "Yeah, and I couldn't do this with my brother around."

"Okay, what's the problem?" The nurse takes out Dean's chart from the pile.

"Um...this is kind of embarrassing." Dean smiles sheepishly. He's cover story already mapped out in his mind. "A little over six months ago, I was at bar. And um...I ended up at some guy's motel room. We were both really drunk. Or else...I'm straight, so."

"Okay, you don't have to justify anything to me, sir. Just...take your time." The nurse smiles, trying to reassure her patient.

"I don't think protection was used, like I said, we were drunk...and uh, like I said, I don't...not with men." Dean takes a deep breath. He hands now shaking like crazy. "I know all about the risks, and I did get tested and everything after the fact. But the doctor told me that HIV or AIDS, I don't..."

"That sometimes the disease doesn't show until after six months?" The nurse supplies.

"Yeah, see...my brother doesn't know about this. And he's been through a lot later so I don't leave him alone that often. So...plus I'm here." Dean tries to smile through his nerves.

"Was it consensual?" The nurse asks as she writes somethings down on Dean's cart.

"What?" Dean is surprised. Not sure if he heard her correctly.

"Was the sex consensual?" The nurse repeats as she looks back at Dean, from his chart.

"I didn't...I would never do that to someone." Dean says, not believe what he's hearing.

"I know that, sir. I didn't mean to confuse you. Men that are the predators in this situation don't usually care about this stuff. And they don't tend to act the way you are right now. You don't have to be ashamed, it's not..." Dean shakes his head, cutting the nurse off.

"No, he didn't...that's not what happened." Dean says, trying to keep his voice level.

The nurse doesn't push the subject. "Okay, we can run some blood work. It will take a couple days to get the results back."

"I don't know how long I'll be staying in town. Can I simply leave my cell number, and you can call me with the results." Dean asks.

"Of course. Wait here, I'll get what we need." The nurse says as she leaves the room.

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Dean has pushed his hospital visit into the back of his mind. Sure, he's freaked. But if he's healthy, that's that. No more need to stress over what happened. _Nothing happened!_ Besides, having run into Layla, he now can't think of anything else. What she must be going through.

Dean enters the motel room to find Sam already there, on his laptop.

"What'd you find out?" Dean asks, not wasting any time.

"I'm sorry" Sam does not look up from the laptop as Dean approaches.

Dean can tell he's not going to like what Sam has to tell him. Why not have more bad news today. "Sorry about what?" Dean asks.

Sam finally looks up from the laptop. "Marshall Hall died at 4:17." Sam states.

"The exact time I was healed." Dean replies, a little stunned.

Dean stands in front of the table as Sam speaks. "Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed. Six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits." Sam hands Dean a pile of research. Dean finally takes a seat across from Sam.

"Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time." Sam continues. Still not impressed that this became a hunt, why couldn't they catch a break for once.

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" Dean asks.

"Somehow. LeGrange...he's trading a life for another." Sam really didn't want this to be a case, knowing this would destroy Dean. Dean always takes loosing civilians very seriously. Always extra hard on himself, always thinking that if he just tried a little harder. So now...

"Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean is trying to figure this out. _No, this can't...no._

"Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed." Sam knows this won't change the guilt Dean is feeling. But it is the truth.

"You never should've brought me here." Dean gets up and turns away from Sam. Things just keep piling up. The walls feel like they are closing in, and fast. Limiting Dean's air.

"Dean, I was just trying to save your life." Sam can only imagine what might be running through Dean's mind right now. Sam's at a lose. He doesn't regret what he did. How can he?

"But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me." Dean turns to face Sam. If he can just concentrate on his anger and nothing more, maybe, just maybe, he can get through this conversation.

"I didn't know." Sam sadly replies.

Dean turns his back to Sam again, starting to pace the room. Dean is having a hard time breathing, but he's trying to stay calm. He can't have a panic attack, Sam most definitely will not ignore a second one after what happened in Lawrence.

Sam can tell that Dean is upset, and shaking, so he does the only thing he can think of. He does what he's brother would want. Not what his mind is screaming at him to do.

"The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?" Sam asks.

"Oh, he's not doing it." Dean says angrily.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks.

"The old man I saw on stage. I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew it." Dean says.

"You knew what? What are you talking about?" Sam demands. Not wanting to sound impatient, he doesn't want to push his brother right now.

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that. We're dealing with a reaper." Dean tells his brother.

Dean sits down on his bed, and runs a hair through his hair as he exhales a long and frustrated breath.

"Dean?" Sam asks cautiously.

"Don't Sam. We're on a job now." Dean states coldly. "Son of a bitch."

Dean gets off the bed and heads out the door.

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Dean is devastated. Why is all this happening. Layla is a good woman, she doesn't deserve this.

After learning Sue Ann is the one controlling it, Sam took off to stop her.

After Dean shakes the officer's. He walks the parking lot hoping he bought Sam enough time. That's when he seems him, the reaper. And he's staring right at him.

This can only mean one thing. Sue Ann changed the mark. She's going to exchange his life for Layla's. Dean just freezes. He doesn't want to leave Sam, but Layla deserves to live. Dean doesn't even fight it, not sure if he wants to. He doesn't want to die, does he?

But then, before Dean can decide, the Reaper back off, all on his own. Dean gasps for air as he's released. He should be relieve, but his heart aches.

Dean feels numb. He barely feels connect to world as Sam drive the Impala back to their motel.

The next day, they are packed up and Dean's barely said a word since Sam destroyed Sue Anne's hold on the Reaper.

"What is it?" Sam asks, wanting Dean to open up to him just a little, just this once.

"Nothing." Dean says, disconnected.

"What is it?" Sam repeats, a little stronger.

Dean sighs and faces his brother. "We did the right thing here, didn't we?"

Sam almost wants to cry for his brother, the pain he feels.

"Of course we did." Sam forces out in a neutral tone.

"Doesn't feel like it." Dean goes back to packing. There's a knock on the door.

"I got it." Sam says, knowing who's there. Hoping he made the right decision, and this doesn't send Dean off the deep end. "Hey, Layla. Come on in."

Layla smiles and enters the room.

"Hey." Layla says, directing her hello mainly to Dean.

Dean turns to see Layla standing in the room, he's confused. He looks at his brother for a moment before returning his attention to Layla. "Hey, how'd you know we were here?" He asks, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Um, Sam called. He said you wanted to say goodbye." Layla says.

Sam smiles, weakly. "I'm gonna grab a soda." He says, before leaving the room.

"So, um...where are you going?" She asks.

"Don't know yet. Our work kind of takes us all over." He replies.

Layla nods. There's a small silence before Layla speaks again. "You know, I went back to see Roy."

"What happened?" He asks. His mind really wanted to know why Sam would do this. Sure there's closure, but this is just painfully cruel.

"Nothing." The sit down, side by side on the bed as she continues to speak. "I mean, he laid his hand on my forehead, but nothing happened."

"I sorry. I'm sorry it didn't work." Dean feels a familiar pain in his chest. Guilt, grief.

"And Sue Ann. She's dead, you know? Stroke." Layla says.

"Yeah, I heard. I mean, Roy's a good man. He doesn't deserve what's happen." Dean says, not sure why he's saying these thing. There's something about Layla. He wants to save her with ever fiber of his being, but there is absolutely nothing he can do.

"It must be rough. To believe in something so much, and have it disappoint you like that." Not sure if he's only just speaking Roy anymore.

"You wanna hear something weird?" She asks.

"Hm?" Dean looks at Layla.

"I'm okay. Really. I guess, if you're gonna have faith, you can't just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it wen they don't." She tells him.

"So, what now?" Dean asks sadly.

She simple shrugs. "God works in mysterious ways." She says as she gentle reaches out and places a hand on Dean's face.

Dean fight everything he has not to cry. Not to lean into this simple and comforting touch. He doesn't deserve it.

"Goodbye Dean" Layla gets up off the bed, and goes to leave.

Dean is silent for a moment, but then has the urge to say more. "Hey." He calls out to Layla, who is still in the room.

Layla turns to face Dean. "Uh, you know, I'm not much of the prayin' type. The things I've...a lot has happened to me, to my family over the years." Dean forces an awkward smile, and drops his gaze. "If you knew even the half of it, you'd..."

Dean takes a deep breath and looks back up at Layla. "But I'm gonna pray for you."

Tears fill Layla's eyes, she's touched by Dean. "Well. There's a miracle right there." She smiles.

After a moment, Dean watches Layla leave the room and he collapses onto the bed behind him.

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The car is completely silent. Dean's driving, unsure of where they are headed.

Sam is worried, it's never a good sign when even the music isn't drowning out the awkward silence. He wants to say so much to his brother. Sam wants to know how things went with Layla, even though he can guess the response to that question. He also wants to tell Dean they did do the right thing? That it's not their job to save people like Layla. That they can't save everyone, but he knows this would only piss his brother off.

Sam is pulled from his thought by the sound of a cellphone ringing. He checks his phone, and nothing. Sam looks over at Dean, but it doesn't seem like he's paying attention to anything other than the road.

"Dean, phone." Sam says, as he then notices Dean's phone rested in between their seats. He doesn't wait for a response from Dean, since he does not expect to get one.

Sam reaches for the phone and picks up before Dean can protest. Dean doesn't really want to talk to anyone anyways..

"Maybe it's a new hunt." Dean says, still staring a head at the road.

Sam looks over at Dean for a moment, surprised he didn't yell at him for taking his phone. "Hello?' Sam says into the phone.

"Hello, may I please speak to Dean Burkovitz." A vaguely familiar voice asks. Burkovitz? Sam looks over at Dean, that's the alias they used since Dean's first trip to the hospital after the incident with the Rawhead.

"Um...yeah, this Dean Burkovitz." Sam replies, not sure who's calling.

Dean is confused at first as well, until he realizes he gave that alias to the nurse that was running the extra tests he asked for. His heart starts to beat wildly against his chest and his tightens his grip on the wheel. _Shit, shit, shit. Don't tell Sam, it's not me._ Dean thinks, fighting every urge to just snatch the phone from his brother. Knowing that will either cause an accident or for Sam to be just as curious.

"I've got the results of your tests back, are you still in town or would you just like me to tell you now over the phone?" The nurse replies.

Sam now recognizes the voice of the nurse that told Dean his heart was healthy after being healed by Roy. Why was she calling? What tests?

"Tests?" Sam asks, looking over at his brother.

"Yes, you're HIV and...I am speaking to Dean, correct?" The nurse says.

"Yes, sorry, I'm driving now, mind's kind of else where at the moment." Sam directs the state directly to Dean. "I actually just left town this morning, is it fine to get the results over the phone or do you need me to come back in?"

Dean risks a glance over at his brother, who is staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"No, over the phone is fine. You're tests came back negative. You're clean Mr. Burkovitz." The nurse replies.

"Thank you." Sam hang up the phone.

Dean feels like kicking himself, he can't believe this is happening. With everything that happened, the Reaper, Layla, Dean must have forgotten all about the tests. Or else he wouldn't have been so stupid, letting Sam answer his phone like that. And now, unless he wants to stay in the dark about the results, he knows the following conversation can't be avoided.

"Something you want to tell me Dean?" Sam asks.

"Do we really need to play this game Sam, just tell me what the nurse said." Dean replies, emotionless. Trying to calm his nerves.

"Dean, stop the car." Sam says coldly. Not wanting to cause an accident.

"What? Just tell me." Dean doesn't want to pull over. If he pulls over, the conversation is most definitely going to get out of hand.

The highways is pretty dead, they haven't seen many cars since getting onto this particular highways. But Sam still doesn't want to risk Dean loosing control of the car. This conversation needs to happen, now. He can't keep ignoring all this shit.

"Dean, just stop the car. I'm not having this conversation with you while you can get us both kill." Sam says, trying to keep his voice calm and soft even though it's screaming in his head.

"Fine." Dean barely noticed that he was gradually picking up speed ever since the phone rang. But Sam did.

Once the Impala was parked on the side of the road; Sam quickly exits, not waiting for Dean.

Dean takes a deep breath. _This is ridiculous, why am I nervous about this. Everyone gets tested. Snap out of it Dean. Come on!_ Dean gets out of the car.

"What?" Dean asks aggressively as he walks around the car.

"What's going on Dean?" Sam asks.

"Come on Sammy. I'm sure we had the sex talk growing up. You know, how when you're sexually active, it's a good to get tested every once in a while. And come, we all now how much..." Dean plasters on a smile as he talks. Putting on a regular smart-ass grin.

Sam is not impressed as he cuts Dean off. "Cut the bull Dean. This is serious."

"Yeah, she shouldn't have given the result to you. They were my results." Dean says, still pissed.

"Right, because you seemed totally lucid back there in the car. You've been spaced out ever since we left the motel." Sam snaps.

"And I wonder why." Dean yells back.

"Look, I'm sorry about Layla. I thought that would help. It sucks..." Sam says softly.

"We aren't talking about this Sam. I'm not going to have some heart-to-heart on the side of the friggin' highway." Dean says, turning away from Sam. He needs to calm down before he seriously says something he regrets.

"They're negative." Sam says so softly that Dean barely hears him.

Dean turns around to face his brother. "What?"

"I said, they're negative." Sam says a little louder.

Dean exhales a long breath of relief. Which he realizes probably wasn't smart. Why would he be nervous if he's trying to convince his brother he was simple getting the test done because it was a good thing to do now and then. "Good, now let's get the show back on the road."

"You're unbelievable." Sam turns and takes a couple steps away from the car. Clearly the conversation is not over yet. Sam thinking the same thing, why would Dean be nervous.

"I'm unbelievable? Seriously, it's no big deal. I'm sure when you were with Jessica, you got yourself tested." Dean doesn't want to piss Sam off, but he needs to keep the conversation tuned to his liking.

"I never snuck around about it." Sam replied. He didn't want to have a big confrontation with his brother, but Dean was giving him no other choice.

"Sorry I didn't shout it from the roof tops Sam. Are we seriously having an argument about this. On the side of the road no less." Dean just chuckles, this is unbelievable. Can't he just get a break, just this once.

"I don't want you to shout it from the roof tops. But you purposely went behind my back about it, which makes me think you're lying to me." Sam snaps back.

"Why would I lie about this Sam. What could I possible be hiding from you?" Dean asks, turning his back on Sam yet again. _What am I supposed to say Sam? Oh, by the way little brother, remember that foster care incident you wanted to talk about. Oh, well it's no biggy, I was just molested by some creep. Forgot about it entirely, until a group of very considering gentlemen decided to jog my memory by raping me and now_...Dean flinches. He hasn't even thought those words to himself before now. _Where did that come from?_

He never allowed himself to admit what happen. He was too focused on other things, like his father. And now he's afraid that Sam will push him too hard. He needs to end this conversation before he breaks. He can't do this.

Sam notices the flinches, which surprises him, but he doesn't draw on it just yet. Whatever Dean's thinking, he can't just pull it out of his head, no matter how much he wishes he could.

"Dean, why can't...why is this so hard." Sam asks sadly.

Dean slowly turns to face his brother, trying to focus on anything but the pain. "What Sam? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Why is that so hard for you? I feel...I feel like you don't trust me anymore. You don't talk to me." Sam doesn't want to break down, but he feels so frustrated and helpless to help he brother, who is clearly in pain. Sam holds back the tears with all his might.

"Right, because you're just the poster child of honesty and sharing." Dean shakes his head.

"I told eventually Dean. But how do you tell you're brother you have visions? I was freaked, okay, I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. But I'm not hiding anything from you now Dean, you are." Sam shakes his head, wiping a hand over his face.

"Sam, I'm tired. I just want to crash. Do we really have to have this conversation right now." Dean asks.

Sam laughs, shaking his head again. "Of course you're tired. You could have just finished a large coffee and be wide awake, but start having a conversation about something hard and you're suddenly tired. You need some new material Dean."

"Okay, fine, I just don't want to talk, period. There is nothing to talk about. I don't know what crazy idea you have in that insane head of you're, but there is nothing to talk about." Dean states, as he starts to make he way to the driver's side of the car.

Sam doesn't move. "I wish I could just put all this on that stupid incident in Rockford. That stupid Asylum. I mean hell, I shot you and said some pretty terrible things. But the truth is, the attitude of yours goes back further than that. Hell, you've been distant every since getting me at Sanford. Fine, you're worried about Dad..."

Dean wants to cut Sam off, but he doesn't even know what to say. He hasn't seen Sam like since...well, probably before he went to college. There was no stopping him now. The boy definitely would have made a good lawyer.

"But then there's St. Louis. Which is driving me crazy not to bring up, it's screaming at me almost everyday. But you don't want to talk about it. Then there's mom, and Lawrence, and that...I admit, that's tore me up. But you won't even talk about it. You were a wreck, and you can't take back what happened that night, even thought I know you want to. But you won't talk about it. And now there's all this...almost dying, Layla, Roy, and this sneaking around. I don't get it." Sam practically is screaming now. Sam finally allows himself to breath. His breathing coming out fast and irratic as he fighting so hard not to break down.

"Fuck, why can't you just talk to me." Sam asks softly.

Dean's breaking inside just by watching his brother. He knows he's to blame for all this. But Dean can't be what Sam wants him to be. Not now, and maybe not ever. So, even though he knows he's going to regret what he's about to say, Dean feels he has no other choice.

"You walked out on us Sam." Dean shouts as he walks back around the car. Getting close to Sam. "You cut all your ties because you wanted normal."

"Dean..." Sam can't apologies for going to college, and Dean doesn't allow him to speak.

"That's four years Sam. Four years of shit that you know nothing about. And I'm not going to sit down and catch you up, because if you really cared you would have picked up the damn phone from time to time." Dean says.

"You said so yourself, it's a two way street Dean." Sam says, he too started to get angry.

"You didn't want anything to do with us Sam. Why would I call and tell you if I had a bad hunt? Why would I call and tell you these things? You didn't want anything to do with hunting, which meant, you didn't want anything to do with me. I am hunting. It's what I do, and it's who I am. And I let you go back then. But don't try and take this higher ground shit with me now. There is nothing to talk about. If you want to spill your guts, fine. I'll listen, I'm still you're brother...I still..." Dean stops, looking at the ground. The anger quickly leaving, and his masks slipping.

"You still what Dean?" Sam asks softly.

"Let's go. I want to get as far away from Nebraska as possible before crashing and then looking for something to kill." Dean says as he walks around the car again. "Get in the damn car Sam. This conversation is over."

Dean gets into the car, slamming the door. Sam jumps, and the tears he fought so hard against start running down his face. He doesn't even bother wiping his face clean as he gets into the car.

Dean doesn't have to look directly at Sam to know that he's crying. And it takes everything Dean has to just drive. He just shuts everything else down. Pushes every feeling, ever bad memory, so far away so that all he is focused on now is the road ahead.

Sam tries hard not to make a sound as his tears continue to run down his face. He's completely exhausted, and he feels completely lost. He feels like he's loosing his brother slowly, and he just prays they find their father. Maybe then things can get back to...normal.

**TBC**

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Next chapter is currently being planned out, and will be uploaded soon. Don't worry, next chapter you'll learn a little more about what happened to Dean in New Orleans. And someone gets pretty close to the truth, but will is be Sam?

**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated. Thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

**Review Response**: Thanks to J-09, rholou, Elle452, indusgirl1313 and du1387 for your kind reviews.

I wasn't sure about picking the episode, as I was not a big fan of Cassie. But I felt it was a good way to move a long some of Dean's repressed issues. And if I skipped over it, there would be the obvious issue (that which triggers Dean's memory in the below chapter) that would go un-answered.

And I apologize for the delay, it took me awhile to get this chapter. It was hard. First time I've tried writing male/male rape before in any form of fiction. So I'm extra nervous about this chapter. (I should also point out that I have no-one editing this story for me, so any mistakes in grammar, spelling, ect. are my own fault.)

Hope you enjoy Chapter 6. Thanks.

**Chapter warning**: Sexual content, non-con, self-harm, slight reference to child abuse.

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**CHAPTER 6 - ROUTE 666**

There was definitely an awkwardness that surrounded the boys ever since Nebraska. Sam feels like he's suffocating in silence. Dean will barely talk unless it's to discuss a hunt, and Sam is starting to get very scared.

Dean, if he was able to separate himself from...well, himself and take an outside look. He too would probably be terrified. Dean has completely shut down. He's pushed them towards hunt after hunt once they got out of Nebraska. Not giving Sam any moment to bring up any heart-felt conversations.

Even Dean realizes he might be a little too cold. Sam is dealing with a lot of his own problems, which Dean would listen to if Sam needed to talk. But Dean had a feeling that his little brother was more focused on Dean's problems than his own as of late.

Dean is surprised when he gets the call from Cassie. Ever instinct tells him to ignore it.

Cassie is someone who Dean dating during the time Sam was at Stanford. Hearing from her again, even though completely random, brings back both pleasant and sad memories for Dean.

So Dean and Sam head over to Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Sam is confused at first about Cassie, but quickly likes the change. There is no longer the lingering awkwardness from Nebraska. And even though it's odd, Sam is enjoying bugging Dean about Cassie.

Sam never knew that Dean tried a relationship with anyone, he's always just stuck to the one-night-stands. Sam wonders if Cassie is one of those things that is bothering his brother, something that happened during those four years that Dean doesn't want to talk about.

Cassie does seem like a very strong woman, like she wouldn't take any of Dean's shit. Which just makes Sam smile. But he still can't believe that Dean would tell her about their "job." That just throws Sam into yet another loop, he never even told Jessica. And he was....they were real serious. And he knew Dean didn't do serious, so what happened?

After a couple of deaths, doing some research, and talking to some people; Dean and Sam find themselves walking back to the Impala after a long day. Sam can't help himself, he needs to talk about Cassie some more.

"Truck." Dean says. Talking about the information they just learned from some men at the Dock by the lake.

"Keeps comin' up, doesn't it?" Sam replies.

"You know what I was thinking? You heard of the Flying Dutchman?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, a ghost ship infused with the captain's evil spirit. Basically a part of him." Sam replies.

"Yeah, so what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck that's the extension of some bastard ghost, reenacting past crimes." Dean says, as they continue to make their way to the car.

"The victims have all been black men." Sam states.

"It's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family." Dean continues.

"Alright, well, you work with that angle. Go talk to her." Sam says, trying to suppress a smile.

"Yeah, I will." Dean states. Not really wanted to get into another conversation about his relationship with Cassie. Sure he appreciates the change, but still, this is not very comfortable for him.

"Oh, and you might also want to mention that other thing." Sam says as they stop at the car.

"What other thing?" Dean asks, confused.

"The serious unfinished business. Dean, what is going on between you two?" Sam asks, trying to be a little serious this time.

"Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said." Dean states.

"Oh, okay. Yeah." Not that Sam couldn't figure that one out all on his own.

"Okay, a lot more. Maybe." Dean states with a groan as Sam lets out a laugh. "And I told her the secret about what we do, and I shouldn't have."

"No, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone, sometime." Sam says, starting to wonder. This can't be why Dean won't talk to him now, right?

"Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close, and look how it ended." Dean says, getting uncomfortable. Sam is now just staring at him.

"Would you stop?" Dean barks, and nothing. "Blink or something."

The pieces of the puzzle starts to fall in place for Sam, and it just clicks. He's stunned. "You loved her."

"Oh God." Dean groans as he starts to open the door. Wanted to end the conversation.

"You were in love with her, and you dumped me." Sam stands still, unable to able to think that Dean would break up with someone just because it got too personal. Well, I guess everything about this situation seems odd to Sam, so nothing really should be surprise. He should learn by now that Dean is full of surprises when you least expect it.

When Dean just stands there, with a blank look on his face, Sam is surprised. "Oh wow. She dumped you."

"Get in the car." Dean says and he goes to get into the car. He notices that Sam isn't moving, wearing that shocked look on his face.

"Get in the car!" Dean shouts and his gets in, slamming the door.

Sam walks around the car and gets in. He's not sure he should continue the conversation, but he feels he needs to.

"I'm sorry." Sam says, once he's settled into the car.

"Sam." Dean warns, as he starts the car and drives. Not sure what to expect from his brother. But at the moment, Dean can't stand the teasing or a heart-felt speech.

"Look, I won't push the subject or anything. But...look, I now I missed a lot those four years, and sorry doesn't even mean anything anymore. But I just wanted to say, if um...if what happened with Cassie hurt you. If it made you feel..." Sam was cut off by a forced laugh from Dean.

"Sammy, I love ya, really." Dean says with a laugh. "But, it's no big deal. People break up all time. I got over it."

The car is then filled with that awkward silence again, and Sam wants to kick himself for continuing the conversation. He hates that he feels so distant from his brother ever since leaving Stanford. He thought they would become close again, like the old days, before Sam left.

"I know things have been...rocky, at best. And I'm sorry for...I'm just sorry." Dean says.

Sam is surprised at Dean's apology. Their conversation while leaving Nebraska still hurts Sam, he can't think about it anymore. So seeing Dean open up, just slightly, shocks Sam.

"So...I'll drop you off at the motel. You can get into your crazy research mode and I'll go talk to Cassie." Dean says, hoping his poor attempt at an apology will be enough for Sam right now.

"Okay." Sam says, and sits back into his seat and stares out the window. Deans turns on his music to mask the uncomfortable silence as he drives Sam back to their motel room.

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Cassie is working at her desk when Dean arrives, knocking on the door. She's surprised to see Dean by himself for the first time since him and his brother got into town.

"Dean, hey." Cassie tries not to sound uncomfortable, even though she is, now that Sam's not around.

"Hey." Dean says quietly.

"Come on in." She says, as she shuts the door behind him.

They make their way back to the living room. "So, are you busy?" Dean asks.

"Uh, the paper's doing a tribute to Jimmy. I was just going through his stuff, his awards. Trying to find the words." She replies.

"That's gotta be tough." Dean says, feeling like his emotions are pushing against his masks. Sam has back off after Nebraska, but Cassie has a way off pushing under Dean's barriers as well. And ever since...well, getting Sam. Dean doesn't know if he can handle both of them right now.

"For years, this family owned the paper, the Dorians. They had a whites only staff policy. After they sold it, Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop 'till he became editor. He taught me everything." Cassie admits.

After the room is filled with suffocating silence, Cassie breaks. "So, where's your brother?" She asks.

"Not here." Dean awkwardly replies.

"Alright, so, uh...what brings you here?" She asks, feeling just as awkward and uncomfortable as Dean.

"Trying to find the connection between the three victims. By the way, did you talk to your mom about what Todd said about not being a racist?" Dean asks, trying to keep the conversation solely on the case.

"I did. She didn't wanna talk about it." Cassie replies.

"Right." They both just stand in the room, letting it fill back up with an awkward silence. Dean takes a deep breath, not knowing why he needs to ask but does anyways.

"So, just then, um...why'd you ask where my brother was?" He asks.

"Nothing. Not important." Cassie replies, trying to sound casual.

"Could it be because without him here, it's just you and me? And not you, me, and Sam, which would be easier?" He asks, cursing himself. He doesn't want to have this conversation, so why is he saying these things?

"It's not easier." She says, surprised that Dean is being open. She's not sure what to say, seeing Dean this upset. "Look, I..."

Dean cuts her off. "No, forget it. We'll keep it strictly business." Dean says as he takes his eyes away from Cassie and looks around the room.

Cassie just laughs. "I forgot you do that."

"Do what?" Dean asks, trying to sound genuinely confused. This is to be expected, he can't get away with changing the subject like that with Sam, why should he expect any less from Cassie.

"Oh, whenever we get...what's the word, close? Anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off. Or make some joke, or find any way to shut the door on me." Cassie says, getting upset.

Dean is starting to second guess coming here without Sam. But he just laughs. _No getting out of this one I guess._ Besides, having a nice argument with someone he probably won't ever see again might be a good release.

"Oh, that's hilarious. See, I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me." Dean replies loudly.

"Wait a minute..." Cassie tries to say something, but Dean just keeps talking. This is what everyone wants from him, right, honesty?

"And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it." Okay, so metaphors, not the best way, but at least he's talking.

"Are we done with this metaphor?" She replies sharply.

"All I'm saying is I was totally upfront with you back then, and you nailed me with it." Dean says sadly. He would never admit this to Sam, but it's actually nice to get this off his chest.

"The guy I'm with, the guy I'm hoping might be in my future tells me he professionally pops ghosts." Cassie says, trying to defend herself.

"That's not the words I used." Dean cuts in.

"And that he has to leave to go work with his father." Cassie continues.

"I did." Dean replies. And people wonder why he lies, why he builds up these walls.

"All I could think was, if you want out, fine, but don't tell me this insane story." Cassie finishes.

Dean takes a moment, making sure he's understanding her correct. "Seriously. It was the truth, Cassie! And I noticed it didn't sound so insane the minute you thought I could help you!" Dean yells.

The conversation getting a little too heated for Dean's liking, but there's no turning back now.

"Back then, I thought you just wanted to dump me." Cassie admits.

Dean is stunned, surprised. "Whoa, let's not forget who dumped who, okay?"

"I thought it was what you wanted." Cassie cries. She's trying to keep her tears at bay. Not wanting to push Dean's barriers too far.

"Well, it wasn't." Dean simply states. Not sure what else to say. The time he had with Cassie, he actually forgot about a lot of things. And not solely because he purposely forced them aside, but because he was happy. Sure, even back then he knew it would never last. But for that short while, Dean had an escape, a release that he didn't have to hide with long sleeves in the summer.

"I didn't mean to hurt you!" Cassie replies. She's seriously surprised that Dean hasn't run yet.

"Well, you did." Dean says, surprising even himself.

"I'm sorry!" Cassie yells, her tears barely holding back.

"Yeah, me too." Dean replies.

The both stare at each other, both breathing heavily from all the yelling. Not really sure who took that first step, but Dean and Cassie soon find themselves drawn into a passionate kiss.

They both pull away, dazed. Neither sure if this is the right thing to do, but before either can object, they start kissing again. Cassie quickly pulls Dean's jacket off, throwing onto the ground. They continue to kiss each other passionately, arms franticly touching each other and pulling at their clothes.

Both Dean and Cassie loose their shirts by the time they get to the bed. They collapse onto the bed, Dean on top of Cassie as they continue to make-out.

Dean doesn't realize the importance of it yet, but this is the first time he's really been intimate with anyone since his job in New Orleans. Sure he's flirted with many woman, sometimes for his own enjoyment, but mostly to keep things normal around Sam.

Everything turns ugly fast as they roll over, Cassie now on top of Dean. Suddenly now longer in control. Cassie rubs her hands over Dean's chest as she start kissing him faster, her hands starting to travel down his body.

Dean's eyes snap opens as he begins to panic. The panic subsides slightly as he looks at Cassie as they continue to kiss. He needs to stay in control, or else those memories he's tried so hard to forgot the last couple weeks are going to come flooding back.

Dean rolls them over so that he's back on top. He needs to be with Cassie in this way, need to prove to himself that he's not broken. That's he's not weak. That nothing happened to him that should effect his life in any way.

Cassie's hands are around the back of Dean's neck as they continue to kiss. Her hands then move down his arms. Cassie freezes and pulls away from Dean's mouth when her hand runs over the scar on Dean's shoulder. Cassie looks at Dean, concern clearly written on her face.

"Part of the job." Dean says.

No-one knew, not even Cassie knew, no matter how close he felt to her while were dating. He was always safe, safer than this. And now he's had to lie twice.

But Cassie is too caught up in the passion to suspect a lie. She pushes herself up onto her elbows so she can place a gentle kiss onto the scar. The tender moment only lasts a second, before Cassie pulls Dean into another passion filled kiss. Her hands moving up and down Dean's back.

Dean starts to shake as Cassie unfastens Dean's belt. He pulls away from Cassie's mouth in order to let more air into his lungs. Before he can kiss her again, Cassie starts kissing his neck, moving down to his shoulder.

Dean buries his face into Cassie's shoulder as she reaches her hand down Dean's pants, and into his boxers. She continues to kiss his shoulder and neck area and she gently take a hold of Dean's cock. Dean wraps his arms around her shoulders as he starts to shake harder, his mind sending him back to when he was eight years old.

His mind no longer thinking he's with Cassie, but with that crazy man in the foster home. He can feel other memories pushing at the surface. He feels like his trapped. He doesn't know where to go. Scared that the other memories will destroy him, he locks onto the old man. Hoping that he can safely get back to Cassie, and fast.

Cassie pulls her hand out of Dean's pants as she feel him shake. "Dean?" She asks.

Dean opens his eyes to look at Cassie, his eyes filling with tears. He starts to kiss her, desperately. Cassie wants to ask what's wrong, but Dean continues to kiss her, desperate to push the memories away.

Cassie assumes Dean just must be shaking because of nerves or excitement, so she grabs onto Dean by the back the neck and pulls him into a deeper kiss. They just kiss for the next couple minutes, and Dean's mind pushes the memories of the foster day man out of his mind. Now completely in the room with Cassie.

Cassie then pulls away from Dean, moving her hands back down to his pants. She looks into Deans eyes as she speaks, a seductive smile on her face. "Let's get these off, huh."

Dean pushes himself to his knees, but before he can take his pants off, Cassie gets up too. She takes his hands in hers, pulling them away from his body, as he puts her lips back onto Dean's. She keeps their arms away from their bodies, and she moves her mouth to Dean's ear.

"Let me." She says, lightly bitting Dean's ear lobe. Cassie forcefully, but gently pushes Dean backwards. She straddles Dean, sitting over his pants as she leans down to kiss him.

Dean feels that control slipping away. What's happening to him. He's with Cassie, someone who he trusted once in his life. He's with a girl, no less. This shouldn't be happening to him. He knows he should just take control of the situation and be done with it. Prove to himself he can do this, that he can do what needs to be done.

Before New Orleans, his father taking off, and everything that's happened after picking up Sam; Dean has definitely enjoyed the company of the female variety. And even though things have been so crazy lately that this kind of a situation hasn't come up, he needs to prove that he's okay. Being with a girl can't always make him feel like this. Once everything settles down, if he's not....Sam is bound to notice. That is, if Sam actually sticks around.

Dean wraps his arms around Cassie, preparing himself to take change of the situation. But Cassie takes his hands off her, and places them above his head as she continues to kiss him.

After a moment, Cassie lefts go of Dean's hands, and she slides down Dean's body. Kissing his neck, and down his chest until she reaches his pants.

"Can't always be the one in charge Dean." Cassie says with a playful smile as she slowly unzips Dean's pants.

Dean covers his face with his hands as unwanted memories force their way to the surface, triggered by Cassie's words.

_Dean feels himself being pushed into his motel room from behind. He looses his footing and crashes to the floor. He hears laughter from behind him._

_Dean is clearly a little drunk, and looks like he probably got into a bit of a bar fight early. _

_Before he can get back to his feet, someone grabs him by the shoulders and throws him against a wall. _

_Once Dean gets his vision to focus, he looks into the eyes of the man in front of him. The man's face it cut and bruised. And Dean recognizes him and just smiles._

"_You still think your tough. Let's see how tough you are without an audience." The man sneers, licks Dean across the face._

_Dean was expecting a punch, or a kick. He was not expecting this, and he shudders against the wetness forced onto his face. _

_Laughter fills the room, by voices Dean can not see the owners of._

Dean's eyes opens, and he looks down at Cassie as she pulls Dean's pants down to his knees. Keeping his boxers in place. She rubs her hands up and down Dean's legs.

Even though Dean can see that it's Cassie touching him, and no one else, he can't suppress the shudder then runs all the way down to his legs. This causes Cassie to stop and look up at Dean, who is now staring at the ceiling with a vacant look in his eyes.

_Dean is scrambling on the floor, trying to get to his feet as a boot connect to his ribs. There are two guys surrounding Dean, kicking him while the man who licked Dean earlier sits on the bed. _

"_Okay." The man shouts, and the two other men back off. _

_Dean groans and rolls onto his back. The leader, Dean will later refer him as, walks over and kneels down next to Dean._

"_I'm sorry I messed up your face. If I'd have known you'd come back with an unfair fight, I would have just let you have the girl. She's didn't really seem that interested in you though." Dean says, plastering a smile on his now bruised face. _

"_I'm over it, really." The man says as he straddles Dean._

_Dean laughs. "As much as I'm flattered, I don't swing that way pal. And I'm definitely not drunk enough to think you're the pretty little blonde thing I left back at the bar." _

"_Why do you think I brought the muscles?" The man asks with a smile._

_Dean tries not to let his face falter, the man is creeping him out. And sure they got the jump on him, but Dean's confident he can take on three guys. There's no way this creep is getting into his pants._

_Dean pushes the man off him, and quickly get to his feet. As Dean approaches the man on the floor, he is grabbed from behind and throw onto the bed. Hands grabbing at his shirt and pants. _

_Dean is struggling against the hands forcing him on the bed, his panic rising every second he can't get free._

"Dean? You're scaring me. What's wrong?" Cassie's voice says, snapping Dean back to reality.

When Dean is able to focus on what's happening, he can see that Cassie is still kneeling by his legs. He pants still down by his knees and he's shaking.

Dean struggles to sit up, desperate to erase the memories, currently plaguing him mind.

"I'm okay." Dean states as he pulls Cassie into another kiss.

With his free hand, Dean takes hold of Cassie's hand, and forcefully shoves her hand down his boxers. Cassie is hesitant, but slowly starts to move her hand up and down Dean's cock.

Dean tries to keeps his eyes open as he pulls away and stares into Cassie's eyes. We wants to feel excitement, he wants to get hard for her. But inside he feels numb and scared.

"_Stop it!" An eight year old Dean yells. "Please, stop. I don't like this."_

Tears start to well up in Dean's eyes, and Cassie freezes.

Dean's mind rushes through so many fragmented memories, and Dean clenches his eyes shut.

_Laughter fills the room._

"_He's so tight. You'd think a pretty little thing like this would have been fucked long before tonight." The man says._

"_The other kids are probably just getting rowdy. Jealous I got a new favorite toy." The foster man sneers._

_Dean's clothes are torn from his body. _

_Hands, mouths, tongues caress every inch of his body._

_Dean sitting in the waiting room of a free clinic. His face slightly bruised, he's wearing clean clothes, and is shaking._

"_Maybe I'll see you later babe." The man says before he plants a kiss onto Dean's swollen and bloody lips._

_Dean is on his stomach, struggling. Feeling like he's going to be sick as he feels a finger force its way into his ass._

"_I'm your new daddy now. I' m going to take good care of you." The foster care man says and he too plunges a finger into an eight year old Dean's ass._

_Tears are streaming down a 26 year old Dean's face._

"_Please, stop!" Dean cries._

"_I want my daddy!" An eight year old Dean cries._

_Dean can feel another man's cock against his ass._

Dean's eyes fly open before his memories reveal the inevitable result of the last image. It takes ever ounce of strength Dean has not to run away. He slowly pulls himself away from Cassie, and gets off the bed. He pulls his pants up and fastens them, as Cassie too gets off the bed.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Cassie asks.

"I'm sorry, but...what are we doing?" Dean ask, as he holds back tears. He can't do this. But if he can only convince Cassie that his fears are because of something other than the truth, maybe he can still leave her house with a little bit of dignity. If there's any left.

"You're shaking like crazy. What happened?" Cassie asks, clearly freaked out.

"Nothing happened. I just...what are we dong? We can't...I can't do this. When this case is over, I'm gone. We can't keep hurting each other like this." Dean says as he walks quickly out of the bedroom, searching for his clothes.

Cassie catches up to Dean as his find his shirt.

"You're scaring me Dean. Did I do something. You seemed like...did something happen to you?" Cassie asks.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks as he quickly puts on his shirt.

"You went someone else in there. This isn't about us at all. Something happened to you, didn't it?" Cassie pushes.

"You and Sam should seriously start you own psycho-therapy office." Dean snarls as he walks towards the door in a hurry.

Cassie rushes to catch up to Dean, and slips between him and the door.

"Then kiss me." Cassie pleads.

"What?" Dean asks, not understanding what's going on. He needs to get out of the house. He's still shaking.

"Just kiss me." Cassie says, as she places a gentle hand on Dean's face.

Dean flinches. "Don't." Dean takes a step away from Cassie, and effectively away from his exit.

Dean feels like someone is strangling him, the air forced out of his lungs. Dean stumbles into the wall next to him as he tries to draw air into his unwilling lungs.

"Dean. Oh God." Cassie says softly. Cassie slowly approaches Dean.

"Dean, you have to calm down, okay. Whatever is happening, nothing can hurt you. Okay?" She extends a shaky hand towards Dean.

Dean is unaware of what's going on around him. His vision is starting to blur as the same memories keep replying in his mind, like a DVD stuck on in a fucking loop. Playing the same unwanted, disturbing images, over and over again.

Reality slams into Dean as he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jerks away from it and looks at Cassie. He feels like a freak. Why did this have to happen now? Why did he have to let someone else witness his pathetic identity? Was the fabrication really so hard to maintain?

Before Cassie can even try to formulate a comforting sentence, Dean is rushing past her, mumbling apologizes.

Dean throws the front door open and rushes out of the house. He barely makes it down the drive-way when he collapses to his knees. He feels like throwing up, but he gags. Gasping for air, and forcing his stomach to keep everything down, Dean is shaking even more than he was before. He really hates the feeling. That these memories has such a powerful hold on him that they made him sick with no alcohol in his system. No real reason to be having this sick feeling in guts besides the memories, and the feelings that they cause.

Cassie stands in the doorway shocked. Before she can snap out of it, Dean picks himself off the ground and gets into his car. The Impala driving away from her house as fast as it can.

Cassie slowly closes the door, feeling like she did something terribly wrong. She walks into the living room and that's when she notices Dean's jacket. Still laying on the floor where she previously threw it during their moment of heated passion.

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Dean drives until he finds himself outside the motel that him and his brother are staying at. He's still shaking, and he's surprised he made it back to the motel in one piece. He slowly gets out of the car, not sure what to do.

Dean leans against the door, looking towards the motel room he's sharing with his brother. The lights are on, meaning that Sam is most likely still researching.

Dean doesn't know how long he stands there, but he starts to shiver due to the cold breeze hitting his bare arms. That's when Dean realizes that he left his jacket behind.

Needing to at least get something warmer to wear, Dean slowly makes his way to his motel room.

Sam is sitting on his bed, with his laptop on his lap. He jumps when he hears Dean enter the room.

"Jesus, I didn't expect you back so soon." When Sam looks up at Dean his light mood quickly changes.

Dean is shaking, due to both the cold and his attempt to suppress the memories that are trying to kill him. His arms are wrapped protectively around his body, and he's wearing only a t-shirt.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asks, as he puts his laptop down and gets off his bed.

"Did something happen at Cassie's?" Sam asks as he approaches his brother. There's no point in asking the obvious question, because Dean is clearly NOT alright. No matter what response Sam might get out of his brother, he can clearly see the distress written all over his face.

"You could say that." Dean says quietly as he walks over to his duffle bag that is next to his bed. Dean starts searching his bag until he finds a long sleeved thin sweater.

Dean turns towards the bathroom, but Sam steps in front of him.

"Do you..." Sam laughs. "Never mind. Of course you don't want to talk about it."

Sam walks away, towards his bed.

Dean takes a deep breath before turning towards his brother.

"Sam, I...Cassie and I, it's going to be a weird subject for awhile. And we talked about what we needed to talk about. That's not what all this is about. I wish it was. It would be so easy to explain all this you if that were the case." Dean explains.

"I don't understand." Sam says slowly. "So you guys didn't get into a fight or something?"

"It just...it got weird. And I'm sorry, I can't..." Tears start to well up in Dean's eyes again.

Sam is shocked into silence. He didn't expect this from his brother. Last time a conversation got too much, Dean got angry. Sam is scared for his brother. For whatever is going on that makes him shut himself down.

"I need to concentrate on the hunt Sam. People can't suffer because of me. I need to focus. And I can't do that. And I'm not like you, I wish I was. I know I bug you and tease you a lot when you get all touchy-heart-to-heart thing. But...I just, I need this. Okay? And..." Dean stops. Why is he doing this? Why does he now feel this incredible need to crucify himself in front of his brother. Sam doesn't need this. Sam's the little brother, Sam needs Dean to stick to his role. Stop being such a god damn pussy.

"I'm going to head out to a bar, alright. Don't wait up." Dean says, before turning and walking into the bathroom.

Sam just collapses onto the bed. Whatever was going on. It was slowly breaking his brother. Sam just prays that he's strong enough. Dean's never allowed himself the luxury of leaning on those who loved him. He's always taken on the role of the protector. So Sam just hopes that, when the time comes, he doesn't fail his brother.

Inside the washroom, Dean drops to the floor. His breathing coming out in sort pain gasps as he painfully tries to suppress his tears. He struggles to the shower, turning on the water so Sam will think he's having a shower before heading out.

Once the sound of the shower running fills the bathroom, Dean completely collapses onto the ground. Curling himself up into a protective ball, just like he did was he was eight. The tears start running down his face, as he suppresses a sob. He doesn't want to make a sound, he doesn't want to be weak. But he can't stop the tears from flowing quickly down his face.

"What would your dad think of you now Dean?" Dean laughs at himself. Tears still falling down his face.

Dean pulls himself off the ground, and leans against the tub. He takes a deep breath, trying to force the tears and panic away.

_Just face it. Take the power away. It's just a fucking memory. Stop being such a pussy. Nothing happened. It's not...just face it. _Dean thinks to himself.

If he keeps trying to push these memories away, they are just going to keep popping up, and probably at the most inappropriate times. He can do this, it's not a big deal.

Dean takes a deep breath and tries to relax. For a moment, he almost looks completely fine. He looks calm and relaxed. _See nothing's wrong. _ He tries to convince himself. But the shaking starts up again as the imaging force their way to the surface.

_Dean feels himself being pushed into his motel room from behind. He looses his footing and crashes to the floor. He hears laughter from behind him._

_Dean is clearly a little drunk, and looks like he probably got into a bit of a bar fight early. _

_Before he can get back to his feet, someone grabs him by the shoulder and throws him against a wall. _

_Once Dean gets his vision to focus, he looks into the eyes of the man in front of him. The man's face it cut and bruised. And Dean recognizes him and just smiles._

"_You still think your tough. Let's see how tough you are without an audience." The man sneers, licks Dean across the face._

_Dean was expecting a punch, or a kick. He was not expecting this, and he shudders against the wetness forced onto his face. _

_It only takes a moment for Dean's anger to snap into place, as he pushes the man away from him and punches him hard in the face. _

_The man stumbles backwards. Once he gets his footing, he places his hand to his face. The man's face is already bruised, the cheek and left eye, as well as a busted lip. All of which was caused earlier by Dean's fists over an argument._

_Dean remains against the wall, trying to get his bearings. He's not visibly hurt from the obvious fight that took place earlier. But he's clearly exhausted and slightly intoxicated. But the alcohol is quickly clearly from his mind as rage takes over. _

_Now Dean can see that there are two other men standing by the door. They are both very large, and heavy set, in muscle mass. They look like they could be bouncers. _

"_I'm going to enjoy this." The man says with a smile._

"_Wanted to crash after kicked your ass the first time. But looks like neither of us are going to get what we want." Dean says, with a cocky grin._

"_I'm going to wipe that smile right off that pretty little face of yours." The man replies. with a sneer._

"_Real original buddy." Dean says, and he goes to attack. He pushes himself off the wall and charges at the man in front of him. _

_Before Dean makes contact with the man in front of him, he is grabbed from behind by one of the large men. Dean struggles against the hands, but the man wraps his arms around Dean's chest, and holds on tightly. Dean feels the tight pressure against his chest, and it's only fueling his rage._

_Using the man behind him to his own advantage. Dean grips the man's arms, and lifts his feet of the ground, aiming them at the man's chest in front of him. _

_Before his feet can deliver a kick to the man's chest, the man wraps his arms around Dean's legs. Effectively pinning him. The man then throws Dean's legs down, and steps close. Dean and the man are now chest to chest. The large man's arms still wrapped around Dean. And now, Dean can't move._

_He can't see where the other large man is, but that doesn't matter at the moment. Dean's too focused as he tries to get out of his current situation. Before his mind could formulate a plan, he feels the man's hand reach into his pants, and then into his boxers. The man forcefully wraps his hand around Dean's cock. _

_Dean freezes, as a familiar unwanted panic rushes through his body. He starts to shake as fuzzy images of a scarred older man floods his mind._

"_Not smiling anymore are you." The man says with a smile. _

_Dean doesn't know where this panic is coming from. Sure, he's trapped, but he can still get out of this situation. He can handle his own in a fight, even one with unfair odds. But he suddenly feel weak, and sick to his stomach. _

_The man then starts to move his hand up and down Dean's cock, which makes him shake even more. He feels like the walls are closing in, stealing all his air._

"_Get the fuck off me." Dean yells, and he knees the man in front him, and leans back as hard as he can. The man pulls his hand free of Dean and holds onto his leg, cursing under his breath. _

_Dean and the large man ram into the wall behind them, causing the larger man to loosen his grip on Dean. Dean forces his arms underneath the larger man's and pries himself free. Dean stumbles forward, trying to make it to the door. But the other larger man is standing in his way. _

_Dean, however, doesn't even make it to the door before he stumbles to the ground. All his fight training that his dad forced on his for years seemed to erase itself from Dean's mind. He couldn't breath. There was something trying to force it's way to the surface of Dean's mind, and it couldn't have better timing._

_The man takes a seat on the bed, as he watches Dean's struggle._

_Dean is scrambling on the floor, trying to get to his feet as a boot connect to his ribs. The two larger men surround Dean, kicking him. The men are in control, delivering hard enough kicks to Dean's body to keep in on the ground, but not hard enough to break any ribs or damage is body beyond bruises. _

"_Okay." The man shouts, and the two other men back off. _

_Dean groans and rolls onto his back. The man walks over and kneels down next to Dean._

"_I'm sorry I messed up your face. If I'd have known you'd come back with an unfair fight, I would have just let you have the girl. She's didn't really seem that interested in you though." Dean says, plastering a smile on his now bruised face. _

"_I'm over it, really." The man says as he straddles Dean._

_Dean laughs. "As much as I'm flattered, I don't swing that way pal. And I'm definitely not drunk enough to think you're the pretty little blonde thing I left back at the bar." _

"_Why do you think I brought the muscles?" The man asks with a smile._

_Dean tries not to let his face falter, the man is creeping him out. And sure they got the jump on him, but Dean's confident he can take on three guys in a fight. There's no way this creep is getting into his pants. Even if he has this weird feeling in the pit of his gut. That seems to be making it very hard for Dean to concentrate._

_Dean pushes the man off him, and quickly get to his feet. As Dean approaches the man on the floor, he is grabbed from behind and throw onto the bed. Hands grabbing at his shirt and pants. _

_Dean is struggling against the hands forcing him on the bed, his panic rising every second he can't get free. His pants and boxers are pulls from his body, as well as his shirt. Quickly Dean finds himself completely naked, still being held down by the two larger men. _

_Tears are welling up in his eyes as repressed memories make their way to the surface. _

"_Stop it!" An eight year old Dean yells. "Please, stop. I don't like this."_

_Dean freezes as the memories of his eight year old self flood his mind. Leaving him shaking. He's barely aware of what's happening until he feels a finger forcefully push itself into his ass. _

"_Mother fucker!" Dean shouts as he resumes his attempts to free himself. _

_Laughter fills the room._

"_He's so tight. You'd think a pretty little thing like this would have been fucked long before tonight." The man says._

_The finger is pulls free from Dean's ass quickly, and painfully, reminding Dean of a familiar feeling he thought he erased from his mind. Dean feels like he's going to be sick._

"_Get your fucking hard off me. Fucking bastards." Dean yells._

"_Turn him over." Dean hears the man demand. "I want to see his face when I fuck him." _

_No, no, no. Dean thought. This can't be happening to him._

_The large men flip Dean over, and now he can see that the man at the foot of the bed is also completely naked. The larger men kneel down on Dean's arms, and start rubbing their hands up and down Dean's body, both obviously turned on. _

"_I'm going to rip your lungs out, you son of a bitch!" Dean shouts, as he continues to struggle. The man just smiles, as he strokes himself. _

_Dean is shaking like crazy now, knowing there is no escape for what is about to happen, and he mentally curses himself. He should have been able to take them. He's Dean Winchester for fuck shakes. Things like this aren't supposed to happen to a Winchester. _

_The man places his cock at the entrance of Dean's ass. _

"_Please." Dean says sofly as tears start to well up in his eyes._

"_Like I said, not so tough anymore. Are ya?" The man says, before ramming into Dean, unprepared._

_Dean throws his head back as he screams at the top of his lungs. The man, as he continues to brutally thrust into Dean, lays onto of him. He wraps his hand around Dean's neck, silencing him._

"_Shhh, we don't want to wake the neighbors." The man whispers into Dean's ear. _

_Tears start to run down Dean's cheeks, as he mind fades in and out of reality. Forced fragmented images of a foster situation, that Dean had pushed out of his memory, up until this moment, play in Dean's mind. _

"_I'm your new daddy now. I' m going to take good care of you." The foster care man says and he plunges a finger into an eight year old Dean's ass. _

_Tears are streaming down a 26 year old Dean's face._

"_Please, stop!" Dean cries._

"_I want my daddy!" An eight year old Dean cries in Dean's mind._

_The man doesn't stop. The large men, however, are no longer holding Dean down. Dean has stopped struggling. Dean's head flops to the side, as he tries to think of anything but what is happening now, and what his mind is forcing him to remember. _

_He can see the two larger men starting to strip down. A look of lust and greed in both of their eyes, as they seemingly wait their turn. _

"_Please." Dean begs softly. "Please, stop. I don't like this." Dean says, almost reverting to his eight-year old self. His mind barely being able to understand the difference._

_The men continue to laugh at Dean, who is now a shaking, crying, mess of a man in front of them._

"_Almost done baby." The man laughs, as he starts becoming rougher and rougher with each thrust. "Then my boys will want a taste of ya." The man smiles._

Dean's eyes snap open, and he stumbles on the ground to the toilet, throwing up. Dean continues to puke until he is dry heaving into the toilet. Tears are running down his face.

"Fuck, no. Damnit." Dean whispers as he collapses away from the toilet.

The shower still running behind him forces Dean to look towards the bathroom door.

How long as he been in here, he wonders. He quickly stands up onto shaky legs. He turns off the shower. His hands still shaking.

Dean then turns on the tap in the sink, and splashes some water onto his face. Hoping to get ride of all trace that he was in here crying like a little girl.

Dean then brushes his teeth, and pulls on the thin sweater he took from his bag. Satisfied that he's calm, and that he's pushed any emotions and memories from his mind, he exits the bathroom.

Sam is in the same position as he was when Dean first entered the motel room. Sitting on his bed, with his laptop on his lap. But Dean can see the difference in Sam's face. He can tell that Sam is worried, but refusing to put pressure on Dean.

"I'm heading out." Dean says as he walks out of the motel room.

Sam doesn't look up from his computer as a single tear falls down his face. Dean was in the washroom for almost an hour. Sam knows that something terribly bad is going on with his brother. And he's slightly hurt that his brother still refuses to talk to him.

I mean, Dean's hair wasn't even wet. What was he doing in there, with the shower running, if not taking a shower?

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Once outside, Dean rushes to the Impala. He pops open the trunk and starts his search. He quickly finds that silver knife that tempted him months ago. He also grabs a small medical kit, and a small towel before getting into the car.

Dean drives. Drives for what seems to be hours, before pulling over on the side of the road. The road is completely abandoned, with no houses or even stores in sight.

Dean turns off the car, and gets into the back seat, where the silver knife and medical kit seemed to have been thrown earlier in Dean's rush to get away.

Dean is actually scared of himself right now. The last time he felt such a surge of panic, he cut open his shoulder so bad, that he's had to lie to two people he cares for about. Sure, he knows how to cut so that the scars will be barely visible to the naked eye, but he's rarely felt this bad.

He can't do that to himself again. But he still finds himself pushes up his left shirt sleeve and picking on the knife. His hand is still shaking, and he lightly presses the knife to his flesh.

He feels like he's completely losing control. And he wants to cut in so deep, deeper than ever before. But he's not suicidal. He's not stupid. So instead, he covers his arm with several small cuts. Soon, he arm is covered in blood, trailing down his arm, and dripping onto the seat.

Dean just stares at the blood, fascinated. Then snaps out of it, as he realizes he's getting blood everywhere. He quickly gets some gauze out of the medical kit, and picks up the small towel. He wipes off as much blood as he can with the towel, before wrapping his arm up in gauze. He then cleans the seat of blood.

His arm is no longer bleeding that badly, as just small blotches of blood seeps through some of the gauze.

Dean is exhausted, and lays down in the back seat of the car.

He's mind is completely blank, numb. And he quickly drifts off into a dreamless sleep. Hoping that when he wakes up the next day, everything will be better. That these memories, now that they are mostly faced, that Dean can sort them away. Put them with all the other bad memories; of failed hunts, lost victims, and missing childhood dreams, and the memory of his mother that is on most days too painful to think about.

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Cassie is lying on her bed, in the same clothes she was wearing the night before, when Dean stopped by. Her mind is going over and over what happened with Dean.

She's snapped out of her thoughts by a cellphone ringing. She quickly realizes it's Dean's and rushes to the jacket on the floor, now next to her bed.

"Dean?" Cassie asks, breathlessly, as she answers the phone.

"What? No, this is Sam? Isn't...where's Dean?" Sam asks, clearly confused.

"He left his jacket and phone here, um...he left last night, it must of been close to midnight I think. I can't really remember." Cassie replies.

"Damn it. He stopped by the motel after that, but then left. Said he was going out to the bars but...anyways, um... I donno, I guess I'll just figure this out without him." Sam says.

"Something happened?" Cassie asks.

"Yeah, maybe you should come down...um, someone else was...just get here Cassie. I shouldn't tell you think over the phone." Sam replies.

"Come down where." Cassie asks, as she gets on her jacket and shoes.

"Where else?" Sam says sadly.

"Another victim, alright, I'll be there." Cassie replies before hanging up the phone. She quickly grabs Dean's jacket before leaving her house.

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Sam is waiting by the side of the road. Cops are everywhere, and Sam has already spoken to them slightly about what happened. His mind still trying to figure out where Dean might be.

When Sam sees Cassie approach, he waves her over.

"Still no word from Dean?" Cassie asks, clearly upset.

"No, nothing. Look, I know it's none of my business, but what the hell happened last night?" Sam asks, a little too forcefully.

"I don't really know Sam, I wish I did. And my assumptions, well, that's all they would be. And I can't...I already completely ruined Dean's trust in me when I didn't believe him about all this ghost stuff, so I can't...." Cassie stops, not sure even how to explain what happened. It's a little awkward to even try and talk about the sex stuff with your ex-boyfriend's little brother.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I get it." Sam says.

"What happened here?" Sam and Cassie jump at the voice behind them, turning around to see Dean walking towards them.

"Where have you been?" Sam demands.

"Someone's cranky this morning." Dean says with a smile, the normal Dean back in place.

Sam and Cassie are not amused, and Dean knows they are both probably worried sick. But he can't make this awkward. The pain in his arm a reminder of why.

Sam recognizes the signs of keeping the conversation strictly on the case. And even though his mind is screaming at him to start a confrontation with his brother, he ignores it.

"The mayor was found this morning. Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, but it's almost like something ran him over." Sam replies, his voice hard and emotionless.

"Something like a truck?" Dean asks.

"Yep." Sam replies. Staring at Dean, both brothers practically ignoring Cassie. And Dean can tell how badly Sam wants to yell at him for making him worried. But he ignores the feeling, and focuses on the case.

"Tracks?" Dean asks.

"Nope." Sam replies.

Dean sighs in frustration, because of the case, nothing else.

"What was the mayor doing here anyways?" Dean asks.

"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Cassie informs the brother.

Both Sam and Dean looks over at Cassie for a moment before turning their attention back to each other.

"Yeah, but he's white. He doesn't fit the pattern." Dean states.

"Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit either." Sam replies.

The three of them start making their way away from the crime scene. Sam had to take a cab here, so he now follows Dean to the Impala. Cassie follows, her car parked fairly close.

"So, Sammy, please tell you got some theory after all that research you pulled last night?" Dean asks.

Sam smiles, even though he's still a little pissed, his fears are subsiding slightly at Dean's attitude.

"Well, it was hard, there wasn't a lot about it in any paper that I was able to find." Sam replies.

"Not surprising. Probably minimum police work, too. Back then, equal justice under the law wasn't too literal around here." Cassie states as they stop by the Impala.

"I was able to look into courthouse records, they show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family, for, like, 150 years." Sam replies.

"You already got research on the mayor, our current victim. You're freakishly good Sammy." Dean says with a smile.

"It's called being organized. Besides, the mayor was on my radar, same with Dorians." Sam replies.

Dean turns to Cassie. "Did you say the Dorian family used to own the paper?" Dean asked.

"Along with most everything else around here. Real pillars of the town." Cassie replies.

"Yeah, Dorian family, real interesting bunch." Sam states. He reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out a printed copy of Cyrus Dorian's Missing report file. He passes it to Dean.

"Cyrus Dorian...he vanished in April of '63. The case was investigated but never solved. That's right around the time the string of murders was going on back then." Sam says as Dean looks through the article.

"I also pulled a bunch of paper up on the Dorian place, it must have been in bad shape when the Mayor bought it." Sam continues.

Dean looks up from the paper. "Why is that?" He asks.

"The first thing he did was bulldoze the place." Sam replies.

Dean turns to Cassie. "That true? Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?"

Cassie nods. "It was a big deal. One of the oldest local houses left. It made the front page." Cassie informs the brothers.

"Please tell me you got a date Sammy?" Dean says with a smile, already knowing the answer.

"The third of last month." Sam says with a smile. "And guess what, the first killing, was the very next day."

Cassie just stares at the boys, confused. Dean looks over at Cassie and then back to his brother.

"Alright, we should find out more about this Dorian guy." Dean states as he gets his keys out of his pocket.

"Dean, I got your jacket and your cell in my car. You want to come get it?" Cassie asks.

Dean looks at his brother for a moment. Sam too realizes that Cassie probably wants to talk. But Sam is not going to bail his brother out of this one.

"Um...sure. I'll be right back Sam." Dean says, as he follows Cassie to her car.

They are silent all the way to her car. Cassie open the car door, and pulls out Dean's jacket. She holds onto it, almost like a hostage.

"I wanted to apologize, about what happened last night." Cassie starts.

"Cassie..." Dean's not even sure what to say. Why is she apologizing, she didn't do anything wrong.

"Your brother really cares about you. I know it was something you were missing when we were together. And I know I broke whatever we had when I couldn't completely trust you..." Cassie continues.

"Cassie, please..." Dean is desperate to end the conversation.

"I know...emotional vulnerability, a no-no for Dean Winchester. All I'm saying, is that, what happened to you. No matter what you think now, it wasn't your fault. And Sam, he really wants to help you. So, just...don't push him away." Cassie extends her hand, holding the jacket towards Dean.

"I'm fine Cassie, I don't..." Dean's not sure what Cassie thinks she knows, but...

"It's fine Dean. Let's just...get through this case in one piece. And then we'll probably never see each other again. I just...I hope whatever it is, doesn't destroy you. I know memories can sometimes try to." Cassie says before getting into the car.

Dean is almost in a daze, not sure how to react to what Cassie just told him. But he's snapped back to the present when Cassie drives away.

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After learning the truth about what happened to Cyrus. Nearly getting killed by a killer truck, but finally destroying the spirit. Dean and Sam are again packed up and ready to move on.

It wasn't that awkward around Cassie, she seemed to respect Dean's wish to keep the appearance of normalcy.

Cassie has stopped by, wanted to say goodbye. Dean is packing up the last of the stuff in their motel room, as Sam is already at the Impala packing some things away.

Cassie approaches Sam.

"Hi Sam." Cassie says softly, not wanting to scare Sam.

Sam turns to face Cassie and smiles. "Hey, everything okay?"

"Yeah, my mother says to tell you thanks again." Cassie smiles.

"Dean's inside. He should be out in a minute." Sam says.

"I already said goodbye last night. I don't want to over crowd him. I actually came to say goodbye to you." Cassie replies.

"Oh. Okay." Sam says, slightly confused.

"It's no surprise that Dean and I had a rocky relationship, it wasn't going to last even without all the job stuff. We're two different people. I just wanted to thank you both for the job. You saved my life. And....look out for your brother Sam." Cassie finishes, sadly.

"You know what happened, don't you?" Sam asks.

"No, I don't. He wouldn't tell me, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you. But I can come up with my own conclusions. And they aren't pretty. So, just...take care of him, okay? And tell him I say goodbye." Cassie smiles, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell him yourself?" Sam asks.

"No, I've already made things slightly uncomfortable for us. It's easier this way." She says, and she then turns to leave. Not waiting for Sam to say anymore.

Sam is left standing by the car, confused. Cassie has an idea of what happened to his brother, but how? Sam himself has no idea. There are just way too many options.

"Ready to hit the road Sammy?" Dean shouts out as he leaves the motel room and walks towards the car.

"Yeah, but I'm driving." Sam says with a smile, as he gets into the drivers side. Not even waiting for Dean to protest.

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Sam is still driving. Dean is resting his head against the window.

"Cassie stopped by before we left. I like her." Sam says, waking Dean from his daze.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, hoping Cassie didn't plant more suspicion and worry into his brother's head.

"You meet someone like her, ever make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?" Sam asks.

Dean thinks for awhile, not sure how to respond or what to say to his brother.

"She said something to you, didn't she?" Dean asks.

"You don't have to worry, she's cares about you. She wouldn't tell me anything. But I just...I know I said back in Nebraska that I would drop it. And it's practically killing me Dean, especially now. But...I don't know what to do." Sam finishes sadly.

"When we broke up, Cassie and I, when I told her the truth. It just cemented this life for me. This job is important. And I don't even know why I felt the need to tell her. And I want to tell you everything Sam, I do, but there's just so much, and I feel like it's killing me." Dean replies. His statement surprising both of them.

"And I know you came clean eventually Sam, with the vision thing. But you needed time to process what was happening to you. So, that's....that's what I need Sam. I need some time." Dean continues. He wants Sam to at least know that, even though he keeps pushing him away, that Dean would confide in him if he could.

"Dean, I just...I know it's big. And I know that you've never been one for the chick-flick moments as you'd put it." Sam says, with a sad smile. "But when you're ready...I'm here okay. You're been there for me my whole life. And with everything that's happened, Jessica..." Sam's voice cracks a little at the mention of Jess.

"I just want you to know that there isn't anything wrong with needed someone to lean on." Sam finishes sadly.

Dean doesn't know how to respond. There is too much, to much to think about. Dean stretches out in his seat.

"Wake me up when it's my turn to drive." He smiles at Sam, before slouching back in his seat and closing his house.

Sam smiles sadly, and focuses on the road ahead. On one hand, Sam's glad that Dean has finally acknowledged that there is in fact something that he's going through. But Sam still can't help but feel completely helpless in watching Dean suffer in silence.

**TBC**

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Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. **REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

Next chapter is already being thought out. Should Sam find out about what happened to Dean? Or should there be more waiting? Regardless of what happens. The angst will continue. Dean's recovery is going to be a bumby one.

Some hurt/comfort to come.

Thanks.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

Shelly: Thanks for your review. I'm glad that you like the story so far. And don't worry, I'm not going to make you all wait much longer for some hurt/comfort. Thanks.

And thanks to torigirl, rholou, du1387, J-09 Vampireotaku for your kind reviews.

Sorry for the delay, had a little bit of a problem with this chapter, so I hope you all like it.

Chapter warning: Slight reference to non-con

And again as a remind. I am editing my own fic, so if there are any spelling or grammar errors. Sorry, totally my fault.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 7. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 7 - SHADOW**

Dean thought it would be next to impossible to function after what happened in Missouri with Cassie. And maybe it would have been, if the hunts that followed weren't so insane. The first couple days were tough. Both brothers trying hard to avoid difficult conversations, and everything reverted back to that awkwardness that they seemed to pick up after Nebraska.

But then things changed, became so crazy that Dean's little issues weren't even trying to force their way to surface. If they never had to take a case in Saginaw, Michigan ever again, that would be amazing. But the case did allow Dean to focus on what he knows best, and that's being Sam's big brother.

Mind you, if Dean spent more time with Max Miller, he may have been uncomfortable. Sure, Dean didn't quiet go through a life-time worth of beatings by people that were supposed to keep him safe, but what Dean is dealing with right now seems just as huge for Dean.

Sam was a mess through-out the case. Not only did he feel responsible for those he lost, Max Miller especially, but learning the connection between himself and Max was frightening. Dean couldn't even begin to figure out what was happening. And he knew his brother was terrified.

Dean then suggested a bit of break, hoping that soon they can find their father. Maybe he knows what's going on. The only problem with taking a break, is that Dean's mind would go over and over things he didn't want to think about. His mind would try to work through what was real and what wasn't.

First couple of nights were okay. Quiet. Sam had a couple of sleepless nights due to his grief at losing Max Miller. So Dean was more focused on his brother. Then one night Dean had his first real nightmare since Missouri, which was to be expected but Dean really wished these memories would die away.

When Dean woke up in a terrifying deep sweat, he looked over to Sam's bed. Dean was relieved to see Sam passed out, the grief filled sleepless nights had finally caught up with him and he finally gave into sleep.

For Sam, everything after Missouri was a disaster. He only had a couple days really to stress over his brother. So many terrible situations running through his head. And it took every ounce of will to give his brother his space. But getting that first vision made everything change.

Sure, he can tell himself over and over again, that there was nothing he could do for Max Miller. But it didn't erase the guilt he felt inside.

Sam was surprised when Dean suggested taking a bit of a break. The break, however only lasted about three days. Three days of grief over his failure and panicking over what the connection means, before he finally gave into sleep and let himself forget all the craziness that him and his family seem to be connect to.

When Sam woke up the next day, Dean already had a hunt. Sam wasn't sure what happened to make Dean jump into action. But Sam could only assume it had something to do with the many secrets Dean has been keeping from him ever since getting him from Stanford.

Dean thought this hunt would be simple. Sure, they had no idea what they were dealing with before going in. But Dean just needed a hunt. Needed something simple to get his mind off everything. Off what's happening to Sam, and especially off what's been going on with himself.

Dean's memories tried to push through ever since leaving Michigan. But that quickly changed. Everything was pushed from his memory when Sam was kidnapped by some hillbilly human-hunting nut-cases. That event in itself Dean though would push him over the edge, just like when his father left him. But Dean surprisingly went in the opposite direction. Focusing solely on rescuing his brother.

Sure, getting tied up wasn't exactly part of his plan, and Dean could almost feel the panic rise at being tied down in a room with a bunch of crazy men. But these guys seemed more likely to take a bite out of his shoulder right then and there and eat him alive, as opposed to throwing him onto the table and raping him.

After rescuing his brother, and getting as far away from Hibbing, Minnesota as possible. The boys got back to some regular cases, which gave Dean a little more time to dwell on what he was trying so hard to keep from his brother.

Dean thought he was being suffocated. Almost every night he had to go out and get drunk. Or just catch a nap in the safety of his car. Away from Sam, just in case he woke up screaming or doing something that would clue Sam into the nightmares he's been having.

Their next gig brought them to Chicago, Illinois. After looking over a victim's apartment, Sam and Dean found themselves at a bar. It's been a while since Sam tagged along when Dean went out. Sure, the victim worked here, but still.

Their visit to the local bar didn't have the ending either of the boys expected though.

Running into Meg was a definite surprise, which gave Sam a strange vibe. Dean on the other hand was slightly pissed off as they left the bar. Meg was kind of rude.

"Who the hell was she?" Dean asks, still a little upset. But for once, not having anything to do with his own issues, or Sam being a general pain.

"I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know man, it's weird." Sam replies, not really catching onto Dean's attitude. Too caught up in his own head, trying to figure out what's happening.

"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?" Dean snaps. Not really knowing why Sam would feel that way at all. Sure, having Sam around is great. But at the same time if he wants to leave so bad, maybe he should. Maybe they need a break from one another.

"Look, I'm sorry Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's no important, just listen..." Sam replies, but is cut off.

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will Sam?" Dean asks. Okay, so many he doesn't really want Sam to leave. Sure, it's so hard keeping everything from him, that he feels like he could explode. But maybe being alone would be so much worse. Maybe Dean shouldn't really trust himself to be put into that situation.

"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?" Sam demands. Just wanting to get Dean to focus.

"What?" Dean asks, as they continue to walk towards the car.

"I think there's something strange going on here Dean." Sam explain. Not really sure how to explain just having a weird vibe.

"Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me." Dean says, trying to sound frustrated. He knows he wouldn't even go for her even if he was interested. Not after the shit that happened with Cassie.

"No man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead." Sam says as they finally reach the car.

Dean stops by the drivers side, and finally looks at his brother. And that's when he can see that he's being completely serious. "Why do you say that?"

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam asks.

"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens." Dean says, as he fishes out his keys.

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on." Sam replies.

Dean smiles. "Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Dean asks, still smiling. Finally a change from their depressing funk they've both been in.

Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. It's been too long since Sam and his brother were able to joke like this. And despite the fact that he's not interested in Meg like that, it's too soon, definitely too soon. But Sam still appreciates the humor coming from his brother. It makes Sam believe, if only for this moment, that maybe everything is okay.

"Maybe you're think' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" He asks, with a grin.

Sam becomes serious, as he needs to set his mind straight about Meg. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts. And see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."

"What are you gonna do?" Dean ask, with a smile.

"I'm gonna watch Meg." Sam says, knowing Dean's going to say something stupid.

"Yeah, you are." Dean says with a laugh.

"I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry." Sam replies. Slightly annoyed by his brother's attitude. But at the same time, glad to see Dean smiling and joking around again.

"All right, you little pervert." Dean says as he throws Sam the keys to the Impala. "I'll walk back, motel's not too far. But I want details."

"Dude." Sam says, still trying to sound annoyed.

"I'm going, I'm going." Dean replies as he starts walks towards their motel.

As Sam gets into the car, he smiles. Sure it's juvenile, and a little stupid. But Sam feels a great deal of weight lifted off his shoulders. He's not stupid though, he knows that whatever Dean is dealing with, it's still there. But for this moment here, Sam will enjoy the fact that everything is as it should be between them.

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After following Meg to the warehouse, Sam rushes back to talk to Dean. Hoping that Dean found something helpful.

As Sam drives back to the motel, Dean also waits for Sam's return. He's been researching ever since he got to their room. It was hard, but he found a lot. Which was nice, having so much to focus his energy on.

When Sam enters the room, he meets a just as anxious Dean.

"Dude, I gotta talk to you." Both say at the same time.

The brothers sit down, as Sam tells Dean everything he saw. Following Meg to the warehouse, and everything that followed.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean concludes, after Sam is done talking.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing." Sam replies.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl." Dean says with a chuckle.

Sam rolls his eyes, okay, so maybe he'd prefer going back to the awkward silences and the broody Dean. Because joking and fun Dean can get annoying, and fast. Okay, so that probably isn't right either.

"And what's the deal with that bowl again?" Dean asks, trying to keep things a little serious.

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone." Sam replies.

"With who? With the Daeva?" Dean asks.

"No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Sam concludes. Not having a clue what all this could mean.

Dean and Sam just sit there, both thinking. Dean then stands up and grabs some papers that he had on a nearby table. He sits down at the table and looks through them.

"Holy crap," Dean exclaims, after a moment.

"What?" Sam asks.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier. I pulled a favor with my..." Dean clears his throat. "Friend, Amy, over at the police department." Okay, so it was just heavy flirting, and a promise to meet up later that Dean had no intention on keeping.

"The complete records of the two victims...we missed something the first time." Dean finishes.

"What?" Sam says, as he gets up and walks over to the table. Sam start taking a look at the records as Dean continues.

"The first victim, the old man...he spend his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born." Dean says.

Sam looks through the file until he finds the man's birth information.

"Lawrence, Kansas." Sam replies, shocked.

"Mmhmm." Dean says, as he picks up the second file.

"Meredith, second victim...turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from." Dean continues as he passes the paper over to Sam.

Sam reads Lawrence, Kansas and collapses onto the bed behind him. Clearly in shocked.

"Holy crap." Sam says softly.

"Yeah."

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Sam asks.

Dean knows it may be a long shot, and he realizes that he was the first to deny it when they were back at Lawrence. He doesn't want to get Sam's hopes up. But he doesn't have any other explanation.

"I think it's a definite possibility." Dean replies.

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?" Sam asks.

"Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." Dean says. Pumped to dish out some possible violence.

"No, we can't. We shouldn't top her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what is showin' up to meet her." Sam says. Not really sure what to expect.

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Dean replies.

Sure, mentally, Dean's still not in a very good place. And in situations like these, he's able to push everything back in the surface. But he still thinks their father should be here, especially if it turns out the demon is involved.

He only hopes that his father doesn't see the inner battle Dean is having with himself. Dean doesn't want his father to take off the second he gets here. That is, if they can get a hold of him in the fist place.

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Dean has left a bunch of messages on their father's phone. It shouldn't really surprise him that he can't get through to him. It's been months since New Orleans, and nothing from their father.

Sam then enters the motel room, with a large duffle bag filled with almost everything from the trunk. He sees Dean on the phone, leaving yet another message. Sam can tell that Dean really wants their father here. And even though Sam agrees that this case might be a little big for the two of them, he doesn't really understand why Dean is trying so hard.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse...it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." Dean says, and then hands up the phone.

"Voicemail?" Sam asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah." Dean throws the phone onto the bed, and focuses his attention on the bag Sam brought in. "Jesus, what'd you get?

Sam chuckles, sure, he might have gotten a little carried away.

"I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything." Sam finishes.

Dean nods as they both begin to go through the weapons. Both brothers are nervous, for two totally different reasons. Sam is nervous, because if this really is the demon, then this is huge. This might actually be over. While Dean is nervous, that if this is the demon, and if this is over, what's going to keep Sam here?

"Big night." Dean finally says.

"Yeah. You nervous?" Sam asks.

"No. why, are you?" Dean asks, trying to avoid his own issues. How did everything get so crazy. Sure, it was inevitable that they would eventually find the demon. They've been spending their whole lives searching for it. But why now?

"No. Now way." Sam replies quickly.

Both brothers are silent, as both their minds work overtime. So many things to think about.

"God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?" Sam asks, actually getting a little excited at the possibility.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean replies, still thinking everything moving way too fast.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school...be a person again." Sam says, without realizes the seriousness of what he's saying. It's like all his concerns over his brother, vanish. Not on purpose, not that he doesn't care. It's just that...he wants this so badly.

"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asks. He shouldn't be surprised.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing." Sam says.

"Huh." Dean tries to ignore the hurt and panic that is creeping up on him. He can't do this right now. Why is everything always spinning out of control. If it's not the hunting, it's the personal crap. Everything is started to get too much. And Dean's started to crave that release.

"Why, is there something wrong with that?" Sam asks.

"No. No, it's uh, great. Good for you." Dean says, hoping to just end this conversation. I mean, what are the odds everything would be over tonight. Slime to none.

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over" Sam asks.

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt." Dean states, angrily. He can't be normal, ever. No matter what happens. Normal just brings more pain. He needs to hunt. Needs to kill things, save people.

"But there's got to be something that you want for yourself..." Sam says.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam" Dean says, as he turns his back on Sam and walks to the dresser.

Dean just wants to completely walk away from the conversation. Sure, this isn't a chick-flick moment, Sam isn't trying to pry into Dean's personal space. But it feels just the same. And Dean hates it. Hates that he's so dependent on his family, yet never leans on them like he should.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asks. He doesn't want to push Dean, he told him he'd back off. But this seems different somehow.

Dean is silent for awhile before turning back to face Sam.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?" Dean asks sadly.

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom." Sam answers.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that man." Dean replies, turning away from Sam once more. He needs to get a grip. His hands are starting to shake.

After taking a deep breath, he turns back to face Sam. He's trying so hard to keep it together. But everything just keep piling up, and Dean feels like it's getting harder and harder to breath.

"You and me and Dad...I mean, I want us...I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again." Dean says. _I need this Sam, please._

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before." Sam says, hating the way his brother is looking at him.

"Could be." Dean replies sadly, trying to keep his eyes dry. Tears trying to force their way into Dean's eyes.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way." Sam says, hurt that he's clearly causing his brother pain.

"Of course, why would I expect anyone to stick around." Dean says, as he goes back to getting the guns ready.

"Dean..." Sam tries to say something, but Dean just cuts himself.

"No, it's cool. You want to go back to that life. I get it, and I'm happy for you, really. I'm glad you can just...get out. I can't. And I...damn it Sam." Dean throws the gun into the bag and storms off to the washroom.

Sam wants to kick himself. He should have realized that this conversation would end badly. Just because he wants to go back to school, doesn't mean he wants to cut all ties like he did the last time.

Dean emerges from the washroom a couple minutes later. Sam wants to ask if he's okay, but he knows the answer wouldn't be the truth. He knows his brother is in pain. And if only Dean would talk about it, then maybe Sam would see more reason to stick around.

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Okay, so Dean is sick and tired of being tied up. But he's so pissed, that he's not worried about his memories giving him a hard time. He's too focused on getting out, so he can dish out some pain.

Sam slowly comes too, and sees Meg sitting in front of them. Dean already awake.

"Hey Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend...is a bitch." Dean says.

"This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Sam asks.

Meg just laughs.

"And that the victims were from Lawrence?" Sam asks.

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all." Meg says with a smile.

"You killed those two people for nothin'." Sam says, struggling with the ropes around his wrists.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less." She replies.

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time." Dean says with a smile. Trying to remain calm. The binds around his wrists too tight, and the panic is beginning to rise.

Dean doesn't like his, he has no idea what Meg is. Human, demon, something else, and people like her, they have the annoying habit of knowing things they shouldn't. And Dean really doesn't want a repeat of the shapeshifter incidence. It would just add to Dean's day.

"But why don't you kill us already?" Dean asks.

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg gets closer to Dean. "This trap isn't for you."

Dean is confused. Sam, however, clues in after a moment. He begins to panic.

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad." Sam says.

Dean just smiles at Meg. He's not worried, he left their dad a dozen messages and nothing. There's no way their dad is in town.

"Oh, sweetheart...you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good." Dean says with a smile.

"He is pretty good. I'll give you that." Meg says as she approaches Dean. She sits down, straddling his legs.

Dean tries not to panic at the closeness. Before Cassie, Dean never would have guess that a girl would induce a flashback or trigger any negative panic. But now, Dean is terrified. So he keeps his smile, hoping his masks will stay in place.

"But you see, he has one weakness." Meg finishes.

"What's that?" Dean asks.

"You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgement. Having to come in and save the day." Meg says with a smile as she leans in close. "Just like the old days."

Meg licks Dean's face, and Dean shudders.

"You do taste good, I can see what all the fuse it about." Meg says with a smile.

Dean just shakes his head. This can't happen. Not in front of Sam. How does Meg know. Why is this happening?

"Besides..." Meg continues, leaning a little further away from Dean. "I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody...nice and slow and messy." Meg finishes with a smile.

"Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some...shadow to kill him." Dean replies, trying to play off his own anger. Trying hard not to let the memories dominate his mind.

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here...they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see." Meg replies.

"Why you doing this Meg? What kind of deal you got working out here, huh? And with who?" Sam asks as he tries to struggle. Buying time.

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do...loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy...and Jess." Meg says with a smile.

"Go to hell." Sam sneers.

"Baby, I'm already there." Meg smiles and slides off Dean. She moves over to Sam.

"Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." Meg continues. She then leans into Sam, to whisper into his ear. "I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me...changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"

"Get a room, you two." Dean says. Dean continues to struggle with his ropes, having a hard time with the small knife he had tucked away in his sleeve.

"I didn't mind." Meg continues as she ignores Dean. "I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun." Meg finishes as she begins to kiss his neck.

"You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now." Sam replies, trying to remain calm.

Meg smiles and continues to kiss Sam. She stops when she hears something from Dean's side of the room. Meg gets up and walks behind Dean's post. Dean struggles to hide the knife, knowing at this point it's probably useless. Dean only prays that Sam is working the same way, and better.

Meg takes the knife from Dean and tosses it into a corner. She then swings around to face Dean, who just smiles.

"Boys shouldn't play with knifes. You would't want to hurt yourself. Right?" Meg whispers, with a smile. Dean's smile falters for a moment, not sure if Meg is referring to what he thinks she's referring to. How can she? She can't possibly know.

Meg then looks over at Sam, debating who to talk to know. She can feel the slight shake in Dean's arm and she smiles. Meg then straddles Dean again.

"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" She asks Sam.

Sam looks at Dean for a moment, not sure what to do. He's almost free of his ropes but he can't charge at Meg. Not when she's so close to his brother, and unpredictable.

"No." Sam says quietly.

"Aren't you two cute." Meg says with a smile as she directs her attention back to Dean.

"You know, as much fun as this is. I'm getting a little bored with all the small talk. My Dad's never going to show, bitch. So why don't you just call it a day." Dean says with a smile. Trying to cover the panic he's feeling.

This situation just got a little too crazy. They have no idea who this Meg chick is, or what she knows. And Dean's almost positive that their father isn't going to just swoop in and rescue them. So he has to remain calm, buy Sam some time to get free of his ropes. But with Meg sitting on him like this, he's starting to feel a little uneasy. If she gets too touchy with him, like she was with Sam, Dean's not sure he can handle it.

"Small talk boring baby? What if we move onto the bigger stuff, you know, to pass the time." Meg says with a smile.

Bigger stuff, Dean wonders. What is she talking about. Dean is starting to worry. But he keeps telling himself that this girl knows nothing about him.

"I'm not much for the share and care. But thanks." Dean says, trying to keep his cocky grin in place.

Sam looks over, pausing his escape attempts. Wondering if Meg somehow knows things about Dean that he's keeping from Sam. Sure, it would be easy just to let Meg open up that door. But he's scared that Dean might panic if all this is happening out of his control. His hands are free, but he needs to wait for a better opportunity. Hopefully Dean can keep Meg busy for a moment as he tries to think of a plan to get Meg away from his brother safely.

"I know sweetie. Dean Winchester doesn't bother anyone with anything. Does he? He just goes through life suffering in silence. Slowly breaking on the inside." Meg says.

Dean just smiles, while Sam wonders if Meg does have some sort of ability to see into Dean's life, or read his mind, or something.

"Just keep talking, but you're wasting your breath." Dean says, hoping this girl isn't for real.

"Bet Sammy doesn't think I'm wasting my breath. I bet Sammy really wants us to dive into all your dirty little secrets. I mean, we do have some time to kill. Your father's probably staking out the place, making sure it's safe to save his two little boys." Meg replies with a smile.

"You're so deluded." Dean looks over to Sam. He can tell Sam is worried for him.

Meg looks Dean up and down. "What makes you so special, Dean? So special that they just want to take whatever they what from you, no matter how they need to get it."

Meg smiles as she slowly unties Dean's belt, and throws it aside. Dean start to shake. Why is this always happening to him. And how is it that Meg knows what's going on inside his head.

"What should we talk about first Dean? I'll be nice, I'll let you pick. The terrible day in foster care? Or how about New Orleans? Or maybe we should talk about what happens when Dean doesn't know how to cope, when Dean's sad, or really scared." Meg says, with a playful smile. Enjoying how Dean shakes in fear beneath her.

"Nothing happened bitch. Nothing to talk about. So why don't you go back to playing tonsil hockey with your boyfriend over there." Dean says, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, more for Sam's sake than anything else.

"You'd really send me over to play with your brother, to avoid having this conversation. How do you put up with him Sam?" Meg asks, turning her attention to Sam.

"It must be driving you crazy. Seeing your brother in so much pain, and always refusing to talk about it." Meg finishes.

"He'll tell me when he's ready." Sam says. Trying to keep his brother calm.

Dean looks over to Sam, and Sam gives him a reassuring smile. Meg rolls her eyes.

"Cute." She says.

Meg then leans in close to Dean, whispering into his ear so that Sam can't hear. "I wonder if your little brother would still follow you around if he knows you like taking it up the ass. Huh? What do you think?" Meg asks as she bites onto Dean's ear.

Dean closes his eyes, as the panic begins to grow. "No." Dean says softly.

Sam has no idea what Meg must have said to Dean, but he knows it can't be good. He needs to get to his brother, and fast. He needs to find a distraction for Meg. Something to get her away from his brother.

"Why don't we give your brother a show. Let him know what kind of a man you really are. Like what happened with your little girlfriend?" Meg whispers into Dean's ear.

"Get the fuck off be bitch." Dean snarls, starting to freak out.

Sam can hear the panic is Dean's voice. The pieces seem to start to fit for Sam, and he just hopes to god he's wrong about what's going on with Dean. He's probably just pissed. His brother isn't scared.

Meg then starts kissing Dean. Dean bashes his head against the post behind him, trying to escape. He begins to struggle with his bonds, his wrists starting to bleed from the pull. Meg continues to kiss Dean as she reaches a hand under his shirt.

Dean starts to shake harder. He clenches his eyes shut, tries to stop the wave of emotions that are hitting him over and over. Sam has been very good and giving him distance. But Dean's almost positive after all this, there's no way Dean can avoid a painful conversation. He almost prays that Daevas just take him.

"Hey!" Sam shouts from behind.

Dean barely hears his brother, he's only aware of the weight behind lifted off him.

Sam pulls Meg off Dean, and throws her to the ground. Meg cries out in shock and pain as she hits the hard floor.

When Dean focuses he sees Meg on the ground. Every instinct is telling Dean to call out to his brother, ask him for help. Ask him to get him out of the goddamn ropes. Because he's freaking out, the memories of those nights flooding his mind. And it's taking everything Dean has not to breakdown or have a panic attack.

"Sam! Get the altar." Dean yells instead.

Sam quickly walks over to the altar and throws it over. The contents on the table scattering onto the floor, and breaking.

Suddenly, the shadow demon appears and grabs onto Meg. Meg gets dragged across the floor, screaming. She's then thrown through the window, and falls to the street below.

Once Meg is gone, Sam stands there, looking around the room. But there is luckily no sign of the Daeva. He then rushes over to Dean and cuts his ropes. He notices the bruised and cuts on his wrists, from trying so hard to break free of his binds. Sam also notices that his brother is shaking.

Dean however walks away from Sam, once he's free. Sam follows, as they walk towards the window, to see Meg sprawled on the sidewalk, dead.

Every instinct is telling Sam to talk, ask Dean if he's okay, ask what Meg was talking about. "So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around." Sam says instead.

"Yeah, I guess not. Hey Sam?" Dean asks, needed to get back to his normal self. Needing to push the panic, and shakes out of his body.

"Hm?" Sam turns his attention away from Meg and to his brother.

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?" Dean says, plastering on his regular grin.

Dean then walks away, hoping to just get back to the motel and crash. They both gather up their gear in silence and make their way to the car.

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While driving back to the motel, Dean is finally calm. He thinks Sam is still respecting his space, but that unfortunately doesn't last all the way to the motel.

"So is this...damn it." Sam curses.

Dean looks over at Sam for a moment, before returning is attention to the road.

"Sam?" Dean asks, even thought he wants to ignore his brother at the moment.

"I'm supposed to ignore what happened in there, aren't I?" Sam asks as Dean pulls into the parking lot of the motel.

"What are you talking about Sam. Nothing happened back there that needs discussion. Bad guy's dead, we move on." Dean concludes, knowing this is probably going to piss Sam off.

"Really. So you weren't shaking back there. You weren't terrified of what Meg knew. Which, yeah, it's freaking me out to that she knew us so well. But that's beside the point Dean." Sam states.

"God, I don't know what you want from me Sam." Dean says, as he gets out of the car. Hoping to get away from the conversation.

Sam follows, they both walk to the trunk to get out their supplies.

"Nothing, right. You really want to keep that responce Dean. Because I'm trying to give you space but..." Sam is cut off.

"It's killing ya, yeah, you said that already. I get it. Damn it Sam. Why is it that everyone just pushes when it isn't wanted. Why does everyone just think they take whatever they want from me." Dean says.

Sam picks up their weapons bag from the trunk.

"Do we really need all this, can't you leave that bag in the car?" Dean asks.

"Better safe than sorry Dean." Sam snaps, as he slams the trunk closed.

"Hey, watch it." Dean replies, hating that Sam is pissed.

They start walking towards the motel, and enter. Walking to their room.

"Ever since St. Louis, I've been going through so many different scenarios, all of which freak me out. And the more I learn, and the more you freak out and shut me out, the crazier these assumptions get. All I can think of, something on a hunt, maybe you lost someone or got really hurt. But that happens, don't see why you wouldn't tell me that. I know mom is a big deal, and it's so hard not to bring up Lawrence, because you scared the crap out of me then Dean. You had a full on panic attack, just because you saw our Mom. And you can deny it all you want, but that is what happen. And I've never seen you have a panic attack before, and it's scary." Sam babbles, not really sure if he think he can accomplish anything by this.

"Sam, please." Dean pleads. His hands are already starting to shake again, worried that Sam has finally put all the pieces together.

"And I get it, I missed so much when I went to college. But I never thought you'd hold that against me like you are. I thought you wanted me to be happy, do get out of this one day." Sam continues.

"Sam, I'm tired, and I'm sore, and I just want to crash okay. So, do you think maybe we can have this heart-to-heart at a little bit of a more appropriate hour?" Dean asks.

"But that's never going to happen, is it?" Sam asks as they reach their door. Dean fumbling to find their key.

"And you know what conclusion I have now. The only thing that makes sense, with what happened with Cassie, what Meg was alluding to, and you avoiding that HIV test you took behind my back. I can only assume that..." Sam is cut of by Dean dropping the keys and cursing under his breath.

Sam then realizes that Dean's shaking again.

"Please Dean, just...tell me that isn't...that what I..." Sam can't figure out how to ask his brother what he's thinking. Because if he's right, if his brother was... Sam feels like it might be too big for him to handle.

"Shut up Sam." Dean says as he gets the door open and walks into their room. Hoping to escape with an excuse of taking a shower.

Once they both enter the room, Dean sees a man standing at the far corner.

"Hey!" Dean shouts as Sam turns on the light.

As the light fills the room, the man turns to face the brothers. And Dean is shocked at who is in front of them. Sure, it's not exactly the distraction Dean was going for, but it will do.

"Dad?" Dean asks.

"Hey boys." John says with a smile.

Despite the fact that Dean is still slightly shaking from his conversation with Sam, and the fact that Winchester men don't get emotional. Both Dean and John walk towards each other, and pulls each other into a hug. Dean holds on tightly, trying take some of his father's strength in order to suppress all the emotions that he's feeling.

Sam watches sadly. Sure, he's happy that their father is here. Could have had better timing. But he's also worried that his father won't want to see him. That he's only here for Dean. So Sam keeps his distance, until the hug is over.

Once John pulls free from Dean, he looks over at his youngest son. Both unaware of the tears that are in Dean's eyes, that his trying desperately to keep off his face.

"Hi Sam." John says softer to his youngest son.

"Hey Dad." Sam replies as he awkwardly places the bag full of weapons onto the floor. He wants to pull his father into a hug. Something he needs desperately, but he holds back. Not knowing what his father's feelings are towards him at the moment.

"Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry." Dean says, trying to get the conversation on hunting. Something that helps hide his inner distress.

"It's all right. I thought it might've been." John replies.

"Were you there?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?" John asks.

"Yes sir." Dean and Sam say at the same time.

"Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before." John says.

"The demon has?" Sam asks. Hoping that their father knows more about what killed Jessica.

"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell...actually kill it." John replies.

"How?" Dean asks, confused. He's never heard of anything that can kill a demon before.

"I'm workin' on that." John replies with a smile.

"Let us come with you. We'll help." Sam says quickly.

Dean gives Sam a warning look, but Sam ignores him. If Dean won't talk to him. If he wants to ignore everything. This is the only thing that Sam can do. Focus on the demon, the thing that took so much form him.

"No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt." John replies sadly.

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us." Sam pleads.

"Of course I do. I'm your father." John replies. There's an awkward silence as all three Winchesters try to handle their emotions.

"Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of fight." John concludes. Hoping that his son can understand why he's doing what he's doing.

"Yes sir." Sam states, trying not to argue with his father.

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time." John says, with a sad smile on his face.

"Too long." Sam replies, holding back tears.

After a moment, John pulls Sam into a hug. That's all it takes for the tears to run freely down Sam's face. Sam holds on tight for as long as he can. So many emotions running though him. Pain for the years lost between him and his father. The loss of Jessica to this demon war. And the whole conversation gap between him and his brother.

After a moment, John and Sam pull away from each other. Sam quickly wipes at his face, trying to erase the tears. John and Dean are both trying hard to keep their tears a bay.

Before anyone can say something about anything, John is thrown across the room by the shadow demon. John connects with the cabinets and falls to the ground.

Sam also falls to the ground, grunting in pain.

"No!" Dean screams as he too is thrown against the wall.

Sam, Dean and John all struggle to get to their feet. But the shadow demons continue their attack on the Winchesters. They groan and scream as they are tossed around the room. Fresh scratches appearing on their faces.

Sam makes his way to the bag of weapons on the floor, as the demons seem more pre-occupied with John. He removes a flare from the bag.

"Shut your eyes! These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!" Sam yells, as he lights the flare.

The room is instantly filled with smoke and bright white light. The shadow demons vanish.

John, Sam, and Dean try to find their way out of the room, with their eyes closed. They start coughing as they make their way towards their father.

"Dad!" Dean calls out. Trying to located his father.

"Over here!" John yells.

Dean makes his way over to John and helps him up. They all then make their way out of the motel room. Sam following, carrying the bag of weapons.

Sam, John, and Dean quickly exit the building and walk down an alley to the car. Sam puts the bag back into the trunk before turning back to his father and Dean.

"All right, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back." Sam says in a hurry. Hoping that the chaos has made John forgot that he doesn't want his sons to tag along.

"Wait, wait. Sam, wait. Dad, you can't come with us." Dean says. He knows Sam's going to be pissed at him for this. But he can't watch his father get hurt because Sam and himself have been too busy caught in their own shit.

"What? What are you talkin' about?" Sam asks, clearly already pissed off.

"You boys...you're beat to hell." John says. Knowing that he can't stay with his boys for long, but is willing to stick around until they are all cleaned up and safe.

"We'll be all right." Dean says softly. Knowing Sam's going to make a scene, and not sure if he can handle everything right now.

"Dean, we should stick together. You're..." Sam stops, knowing that Dean would kill him if he let their father know that Dean's been going through something. So Sam takes a moment before continues. Dean clearly holding his breath. "We'll go after those demons...."

Sam continues, and Dean lets out a breath of relief. But he doesn't allow Sam's almost fuck up to distract him from what needs to be done.

"Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there." Dean says, hoping Sam understand that he's talking about the fact that they've both been so distracted. If Dean's mind was clearly, he'd probably want their father to stick around. But he can't let his father see his weakness.

"Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop, they're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's....he's stronger without us around." Dean says, hoping that Sam and John don't see how much pain he's in. The anger and determination in his voice is covering up anything else that might be trying to break free.

"Dad, no." Sam says, turn away from Dean. He puts a hand on his father's shoulder. Trying to connect.

Dean watches this sadly. Trying so hard to keep his tears at bay. He knows how important all this is to his brother. But Dean can't risk their father getting hurt. He also can't risk his father finding out what happened to him. Sam is one thing. Sam is his brother, and even though it will be painfully, Dean's sure he'd understand and support him. His father however, Dean doesn't think he'd be able to handle the look of disappoint on his face when he finds out what Dean got himself into. What he couldn't stop from happening, because he's too weak.

"After everything, after all the time we spent lookin' for you...please. I gotta be a part of this fight." Sam continues, as he tightens his grip on his father's shoulder.

"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay, you've gotta let me go." John says sadly.

All three Winchester as silent, all close to tears. Sam feels an awful pain in his gut. Those same words he spoke earlier to Dean, being throw back him. Now he knows why it hurt Dean so much when he said he wanted to go back to school.

After a moment, Sam pats his father's shoulder once, and then let's go. John looks over at Dean for a moment before he walks to his truck. Once there, he looks back at his boys one last time.

"Be careful, boys." John says as he gets into his truck, and drives away.

Dean and Sam both stand there, silent. Neither sure what to say.

"Come on. We should head out. Get cleaned up somewhere far from Chicago." Dean finally says.

Sam just shakes his head, but get into the car anyways.

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The drive is dead silent. But brother's trying to contain the pain they are feeling. They drive until they get to a motel a couple hours away from Chicago. They get a room, and bring in their bags.

Still silent.

Dean looks over at Sam, looking over the cuts on his face.

"Do you want me to stitch you up first? I think maybe a shower would help. You can take first dip if you want." Dean says.

"Really. We're just going both shower, stitch each other up, and crash?" Sam ask, still pissed.

"Well, we could go get some food if you're hungry. But the locals might get a little freaked it we start walking around looking like we do." Dean states, not wanting Sam to have this conversation. But knows, that he let their father go and how bad Sam wanted to find him, Dean knew this conversation was going to happen no matter what.

"You're unbelievable. Just going to throw that wall up in my face as opposed to actually admitting that what happened back there hurts. That seeing Dad again, but just letting him go... Which was retarded by the way. Why? Why is all this so god damn hard for you." Sam yells, throwing his bag down onto the ground.

"Being a little over-dramatic here Sammy. You want first shower or not. It's not a complicated question to answer." Dean says, trying so desperately to hold onto his masks. Desperately trying to prove to both himself, and Sam that everything is fine.

"Why can't you talk about anything. Is it really that hard for you. I can understand not wanting to talk about whatever happened that time in foster care, and even whatever happened during those four years I missed. But why is it so damn hard for you to admit that your hurt, or upset, or even just pissed off?" Sam says, still raising his voice as he get more into Dean's personal space.

"You know what. I am pissed. We were stupid, and almost got Dad killed. And for what, so that we could have a talk about our feelings. If Meg didn't get us all riled up, we would have been more on-top of our game. Alright, and none of that back their would have happened. It shouldn't have happened." Dean yells, finally showing Sam that he is pissed.

"Great, see, was that so hard. Now why can't you admit everything else?" Sam asks.

"Because." Dean states, as he turns away from Sam and takes a couple steps towards the bathroom.

"Because what? Why was it so important that Dad leave us again. Leave you again."

"I'm really starting to think you pick the wrong profession. You should have tried your hand at psychology. You seem so eager to have people spill their guts for you. Push at buttons that you've been told not to push." Dean says as he turns to face his brother again.

"I don't even know why I try. You're always just going to joke around, or shut down completely." Sam snaps.

"Right, 'cuz your just always so open and honest." Dean defends.

"I'm telling you right now how I feel. I'm pissed off, at both of you right now. We've been searching for him, for months. And he just shows up like it's no big deal. Sure, he doesn't owe me anything. But he sure as hell owes you an explanation as to why he just up and abandoned you." Sam says.

"And maybe we'll get it, later." Dean says, as he then starts to go through he bag. Getting out a new shirt, and some medical supplies.

"Everything's always later. Why did you want to push dad away so much? Why did you let him leave? I thought you wanted to find him just as..." Dean throws the medical kit onto the table, and Sam jumps.

"Because!" Dean yells. "Because, this way, this all makes sense whether or not you want to see. And this, him leaving this way, is on my terms. He's not leaving because of me later down the line. Because, god damn it Sammy, he would. I'm too...fuck!" Dean yells. Dean start to walk towards the bathroom, looking for an escape.

"Wait!" Sam says, as he grabs onto Dean's arm. "What are you talking about?"

"Sam, please." Dean pleads. Tears starting to well up in his eyes again, and he mentally curses himself.

Sam is shocked, and lets go of Dean's arm.

"You really think Dad would just leave you again. He's our dad." Sam says softly.

"And there are more important things then his oldest son having a breakdown. I can't....I can't take that Sam. It's my job to be strong, to look after you, to do this job, hunt these things. I can't have him see me like you've been seeing me lately. I need a little more time to just..." Dean doesn't know how to finish, and Sam just shakes his head.

"It's always about taking care of me, about the damn job. Why can't anyone take care of you?" Sam shouts. Not caring if he's pushing too hard. He's tired of treading lightly. And even though the possibility of Dean breaking down in front of him terrifies him. Sam almost wishes it would happen, so that they can figure everything out.

"I can't Sammy, please. Why can't...fuck. I can't do this. I can't talk about it. I can't watch you being disappointed in me too. I just can't. I can deal with this on my own okay." Dean says as he turns towards the washroom again.

"Dean!" Sam yells as Dean slams the bathroom door closed.

Dean throws his shirt down, and tries to control his breathing.

"Dean, come on. Are you serious." Sam shouts from outside the washroom.

"I'm gonna take a shower Sammy. Then we'll patch each other up okay." Dean doesn't wait for a response, he quickly strips down and gets into the shower.

He knows this isn't buying him much time. If anything it's only making Sam more motivated to push the subject.

Pull it together Dean. Nothing's wrong. _You're fine. You don't need to bother Sammy with your fucking problems._

Dean pushes the tears away, and focuses on cleaning all the dry blood from his face, and any other cut he sustained on his body. He has a couple cuts across his shoulder, and his upper arm. Not caring is he scrubs a little too hard. The cuts on his chest, and upper arm don't look too bad, but he knows Sam's going to want to take a look at them, which Dean just can't do.

His arm is almost healed from the last time he took a knife to it. But the cuts are no were close to invisible. Sam would definitely notice. So Dean will just have to stitch them up himself while Sam takes a shower, or once Sam's asleep.

Sam paces the room, furious. He just wants to be there for his brother, but he's constantly pushed away. Sam almost just wants to give up, but he can't. Dean has taken care of him his whole life. Been there for him no matter what, so now it's his turn.

After about five minutes, Dean re-enters the room. He's dressed in a long sleeved shirt, and some clean jeans. He throws his dirty clothes, and jacket onto a nearby chair.

"It's all yours. Get yourself cleaned up and then we'll stitch up that face." Dean says.

"Dean." Sam says calmly.

"Please, just...take a shower. And maybe...just, take the shower." Dean says as he walks over to the medical kit and starts taking out what's needed.

Sam sighs as he walks into the bathroom, and starts the shower.

Dean moves quickly. He removes his shirt, and cleans up the cuts, and quickly stitches up the few that need stitches. Sure, Sam might still want to take a look. But he'll just have to convince his little brother that he took take of them. Which isn't a lie.

After getting those cuts cleaned, and stitched, Dean waits for Sam to get out of the shower. Sam is quicker, which isn't a surprise. Dean's sure he wants to continue their conversation.

The boys quietly sit down at the table. Surprisingly Sam doesn't ask about any other cuts then what's on Dean's face. So Dean starts on Sam's face. And Sam is fidgeting, sure it huts like a bitch. But he still has this nagging feeling in his head. Once Dean's done, he hands over the stuff to Sam, so he can do the same to him.

As Sam slowly starts to clean, and stitch the cuts on Dean's face, he decides, against his better judgement, to continue the conversation.

"Look, don't get pissed at me for this. Now that you're kind of trapped." Sam says with a smile.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Go ahead, I know there's nothing stopping you." Dean replies.

"I just...I know I didn't completely say my thoughts back at the hotel. But I have a feeling you know what I'm thinking right now. I just...I'm not going to force you to talk about anything that you're not comfortable with. I just feel like, these past few months, ever since St. Lois, that there's been those huge gap between us. And I know four years is a long time. But you know I'd talk to you about anything. You know how much losing Jessica hurt me. And Mom, I mean, that was hard for me too. Not as hard as I'm sure it was for you, but I'm willing to admit it. I'm willing to talk about it. But you won't. Despite everything that happened, even me witness you have a friggin' panic attack, you still won't admit that you're hurting. And whatever...if I'm right about what happened to you, about the other thing. I just...please, anything." Sam says, as he finishes the last stitch.

Sam packs up the medical kits as he waits.

"I don't know what you want me to say Sam. I've told you I'm dealing with stuff, and I told you I just need some time. But you are still pushing me now. I just...I want to go back to how it was when we were younger. Just having fun out on the road, joking around, having a good time." Dean says with a sad smile.

"And I can give you that. After tonight, I'll drop it again. I'll let you work through whatever it is you need to work through. Just give me something, please." Sam says, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Dean says, as he stands up and turns away from his brother.

"I know you hate this, chick-flick moment or whatever you want to call it. But...okay, the panic attack. Has that happened before, what happened?" Sam asks. Choosing to ask specific questions, hoping that maybe that will help his brother.

"Um...I don't know. I can't remember it happening when we were younger. It was just....seeing her again." Dean says softly, keeping his back to his brother.

"We lost so much, you know. And I know I was only four. But seeing her again hurt so much Sam. I know how hard loosing Jessica was for you. I mean, I wish...Sammy, I don't. I can't do this. Why are you doing this?" Dean asks, and he slowly turns to face his brother.

Sam is shocked at what he sees. Dean is trying so hard to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about mom. I'm sorry." Sam says quickly.

Dean takes a deep breath and walks over to his bed. He rubs a hand across his face.

"I'm sorry." Sam repeats.

"I know you want all this sharing-caring stuff, you know. And I know on some level it helps. But I can't. It's too hard. And maybe that just makes me that much weaker. But if you knew what happened. What I allowed to happened. You won't be able to look at me anymore. And that Sam, that is the truth." Dean says, sadly.

"Were you...um...I don't know how to ask this. But...something big happened didn't it? And...I don't know if you can figure out what I'm asking. But...I need to know, it's driving me crazy. I have all these insane scenarios running though my head." Sam says, as he sits across from Dean on his own bed.

"Don't ask me Sam. Please." Dean gets up onto wobbly legs. His breathing coming out his short gasps. He feels like the motel room just got two times smaller. He's almost 100% sure Sam figured it out, it doesn't take a genius to but the pieces together. And Sam's really smart.

"Just yes or no, that's all I ask. Were you...raped?" Sam asks quietly.

Dean starts to shake as he turns his back to Sam.

"Yes or no, that's all I'm asking Dean. I'm not asking you to talk about it. I just want to know. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from you. Please." Sam asks, staying seating. Even though he has a strong urge to be right next to his brother.

Dean starts to feel that panic rise in his chest. He's only admitted it to himself, and once. He's only recently allowed himself to look at what happened, and he couldn't even look at the whole picture without being sick.

Dean leans over, and puts his hand to his kneels. Feeling the rise of a panic attack. And Dean just wants to kick himself. Why couldn't he just plaster on a smug smile, and say; no, of course something like that would never happen to a Winchester.

"Dean, you need to breath, okay." Sam is up off the bed, and next to his brother in two strides. "Just, deep breaths, okay. It's okay, nothing is happening. Nothing can hurt you here." Sam says softly, as he rubs small circles over his brothers back.

After a few moments, Dean pulls away from Sam. Keeping his back to Sam as tears run down his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't....I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it. I don't understand why you couldn't just tell me...I would never judge you. This doesn't change anything Dean, It wasn't your fault." Sam says softly.

"Fuck you Sam!" Dean says, as he tries to calm himself down.

Sam sits back down on his bed, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn't need a yes or no from Dean. That near panic attack is confirmation enough. Sam thought just knowing the truth would help, but he's started to freak out himself.

"How can you just ask me something like that? How can...Fuck!" Dean shouts.

"I'm sorry." Sam says.

"Stop saying that. You didn't...This is why I didn't want Dad here. He would never....this would never...." Dean turns to face his brother.

Sam feels like he can't breath himself as he looks at the pain on Dean's face, as well as tears.

"I can't breath." Dean says as he bends over again, leaning onto his knees, almost collapsing onto the ground.

He never wanted anyone to know. It was bad enough going into a clinic the next day. Looking like he was some battered weakling, and telling some doctor what happened. But at the time he was too numb. He went through the tests, and got all fixed up. And before reality could really set in, his father stopped contact. So his rape just didn't seem important, and he pushed it far out of his mind.

But now, with Sam standing there, apologizing. Dean couldn't take it. He couldn't handle all this.

Sam get off the bed again, to help his brother. But Dean just rushes out of the room.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, and rushes after his brother.

Dean gets to the car, but can't find his key in time to get away from his brother.

"Don't. Don't just run away from me. I said we don't have to talk about it." Sam says, as he takes the keys away from his brother.

"I can't deal with this Sam. I can't do this. I'm not like you. Please." Dean says quietly, as he rubs a hand furiously over his face. Ashamed at the tears on his face.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. We'll get some rest, and hit the road tomorrow morning. Get a hunt, kill some stuff. But...when you're okay to talk about it. I'm here okay. And I don't think any less of you, alright?" Sam says.

Dean just shakes his head. Why is his brother being so nice to him. Why isn't he disgusted.

"Okay. Can I just..." Dean holds his hand out. "I just need some space."

"Okay." Sam says, as he hands over the keys.

Every instinct is screaming at Sam to get his brother to talk about what happened to him. But he knows that Dean can't handle it. So he reluctently hands over the keys.

"Just...be careful." Sam says.

"Nothing's going to happen to me." Dean says sharply.

"That's not what I meant. Just...don't drink too much." Sam says sadly. "We should both probably get some rest, so...don't stay out too late."

"Yes dad." Dean says, plastering on a smile.

Sam just shakse his head, but he can't return the smile. He's trying so hard not to cry at the moment. Sam then just turns and heads back towards the motel room.

Dean smiles fades as the tears start rolling down his cheek again.

_Damn it._

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Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. **REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

I'm sorry again for the delay. I'm working on the next chapter now, and hopefully it won't take me as long.

Hope Dean and Sam's conversation at the end was okay. I didn't want Dean to out right talk about everything just yet. But now Sam knows a little more. Hope that's okay.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

lulu: Thanks so much for the review. Glad your liking it so far.

And thanks to indusgirl1313, torigirl, J-09, rholou, du1387 for your kind reviews.

Also a big thanks to torigirl for helping with the edit of this chapter. Thanks a bunch.

Sorry for the delay, got kind of busy after posting the last chapter. This chapter is a little lighter on the angst and such, and there are no real warnings. But don't worry, everything will get big next chapter. I already have most of it mapped out in my head.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 8. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 8 - PROVENANCE**

Dean was surprised how easily they fell back into their old habits. Sam respected Dean's space. Even though he felt so much pain thinking about what his brother must have gone through.

Dean was even more surprised at how easy it was to drop everything, and go back to ignoring it. He knows that Sam is freaked, which makes Dean really uncomfortable.

But the brothers hit some regular hunts, and things were slowly getting awkward. Their case in Richardson, Texas, helped them both let lose.

Sure, a prank war might of been a little juvenile and silly. But it was definitely what Dean needed. And Dean was surprised Sam went a long with it. Dean definitely regretting it when he got his hand super glued to a beer bottle.

Sam also liked the break. And even though every night, Sam wanted to ask if Dean was okay, he refrained himself. Once the job was done in Texas, the boys crashed. Sam barely heard Dean speak, both of them exhausted.

"Thanks for this Sam." Dean says quietly.

Sam feels his heart break. It's tearing him apart giving his brother his space, but all he can do is be here for him, even if it takes days, weeks, or even months for him to open up. It's not about him, it's about Dean.

Now Dean and Sam find themselves at yet another bar. Sam is tagging alone, wanted to keep an eye on his brother. And Dean knows it.

Sam watches as Dean flirts with two women at the bar. He's wondering if Dean's really feeling like himself, or if he's just trying to prove something to himself or to his brother. Sam has the feeling he hasn't been with anyone since....whenever the incidence occurred.

So Sam finds their next hunt, knowing that Dean will want to keep moving on.

"All right, you're in there. Perfect. Oh, is that Brandy with a 'y' or an 'i'?" Deans asks one of the girls as he programs her number into his phone.

Sam just shakes his head, really hoping that Dean is doing all this because he finally feels up to it. He looks through their father's journal, and some newspapers and notices some connections so he waves Dean over. At first Dean ignores him, and Sam wants to give him this. But Dean keeps saying hunting is important, so he waves Dean over again.

"All right, listen, I gotta go. Hold that thought, I'll be right back, okay?" Dean says. And the girls smile.

Dean makes his way over to the table, hoping that Sam believes that everything is okay. He feels slightly bad for leading those girls on but he's building himself up. Getting used to all the flirting, being more and more comfortable with some touching. Hopefully eventually he'll be able to bring someone back to his room, like the days before...

"All right, so I think I got something." Sam says, as Dean takes a seat across from him.

"Oh yeah. Me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave for just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one." Dean says with a smile.

"You really going to go home with them? Or is it just a show?" Sam asks, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

"Sam." Dean warns.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything..." Sam falters, not sure how to recover.

"Okay, so I probably won't to going anywhere private with them. Thanks mister buzz kill. I just need this Sammy. Ease myself back into everything. And that's a hard thing for me to admit to you, alright. So just...drop it, and tell me what's so important." Dean says, slightly irritated.

Sam wants to apologize again for snapping. He doesn't know where that came from. He hasn't felt frustrated with his brother. Sure he feels helpless, and he constantly wishes his brother would trust him just a little. But he shouldn't be angry at Dean for whatever methods he uses to get over his pain.

"So, what are we today Dean? Are we rock stars? Are we army rangers?" Sam asks, even though it doesn't really matter. Since Sam knows that all the flirting he's seen in the past few months have been solely that, flirting, nothing more.

"Reality TV scouts looking for people with special skills." Dean says with a laugh. "I mean, hey, it's not that far off, right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. I could probably hook you up, what do you think? Just because I'm currently...out of commission, doesn't mean you shouldn't have a little fun." Dean says, trying to keep his smile.

"Dean, you don't have to...look, I appreciate the effort, on both counts but no thanks. I can get my own dates." Sam says, now a little uncomfortable by the conversation.

"Yeah, you can, but you don't." Dean says, enjoying the flip, enjoying pushing his brother's buttons for a change. Sam says he's open and honest, and doesn't mind sharing his feelings. Well, let's see about that.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam asks, getting more annoyed.

"Nothin'. What do you got?" Dean asks. Not really in the mood for this conversation anyways.

"Mark and Anne Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their home just a few days ago." Sam reads.

"Okay." Dean says, as he waits for Sam to continue.

"Throats were slit, there were no prints, no murder weapons, all the doors and windows were locked from the inside." Sam concludes.

"Could just be a garden-variety murder, you know, not our department." Dean says with a shrug.

"No, Dad says different." Sam replies, as he places the journal on top of the newspaper article.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks.

"Look." Sam opens the journal, and pushes it towards Dean. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York." Same points to the journal pages as he continues to speak.

"First one, right here, 1912, the second on in 1945 and the third in 1970. The same M.O. as the Telescas...the throats were slit, the houses were locked from the inside. No, so much time passed between the murders that nobody checked the patters, except for Dad. He always kept his eyes peeled for another one." Sam concludes.

"And now we got one." Dean replies, looking through the journal, surprised.

"Exactly." Sam says.

"All right, I'm with you. It's worth checkin' out." Dean looks back over towards the girls, who are clearly still waiting for him. "I guess we should get going then."

"I mean, we can't really pick this up 'till first thing, so...if you..." Sam wants Dean to be back to normal, but he knows because of what happened that Sam can't expect Dean to be like he used to, especially sine Dean still refuses to talk about it. Even refuses to admit the words out loud.

"Naw...unless you want to, you know." Dean says, with a cocky grin.

Sam just laughs. Ignoring the problem seems to be the Winchester way, whether or not Sam agrees to it. But Sam has to admit, at least to himself, that he's not being completely honest with Dean either right now.

"Naw, let's crash. Early start tomorrow." Sam replies.

"Alright." Dean says, as he picks up the journal and walks out of the bar.

Sam notices the look of disappointment and confusion on the girls faces. Sam wants to feel bad for them, but he can't.

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So Dean felt a little guilty pushing Sam at Sarah. He knows that Sam is probably still feeling a lot of pain and grief over Jessica. But in Dean's defense, he's only trying to help like the big brother he is.

Sam felt emotionally exhausted after his date with Sarah. He knew it was something that needed to be done, for the sake of the job. But Sam couldn't help but get slightly annoyed by Dean's constant pushing. Dean doesn't like it when Sam pushes at any unwanted topics, but now all of a sudden he's okay with doing the same thing to his brother.

After destroying the painting, Sam thought he could finally relax. Being around Sarah made him very uncomfortable. Sure, he was attracted to her, but he just couldn't. Sam knows that eventually he will have to have a conversation with his brother, I mean for the last few months Sam has be preaching the important of openness and honesty. He can't flake out on his own advice and belief.

Dean, knowing he was being a little over the top, couldn't help himself find any excuse to keep him and Sam in town for just a little while longer. Just so that Sam can maybe get over whatever it is he needs to get over in order to be happy again. Dean wasn't, however, expecting to find out that the job was in fact NOT finished.

After doing some research on the Isaiah Merchannt family, Dean and Sam find themselves back at their motel room. They both are sitting at the table, talking.

"I'm telling you, man, I'm sure of it. Painting at the auction house, Dad is lookin' down. Painting here, Dad's lookin' out. The painting has changed, Dean." Sam says in a hurry.

"All right, so, you think Daddy Dearest is trapped in the painting? He's handin' out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?" Sam asks.

Dean looks over the photo from the book. "All right, well, if Isaiah's position changed, maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. It could give us some clues." Dean concludes.

"What, like a DaVinci Code deal?" Sam asks.

"I don't know, I'm still waitin' for the movie on that one." Dean says with a nervous smile. Sam just laughs to himself.

"Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting, which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend." Dean says, as he walks over and to lie down on the bed.

"Dude, enough already." Sam snaps. Wondering if this is what Dean feels like every time he pushes on a topic a little too hard.

"What?" Dean asks, acting genuinely confused as he gets comfy on his bed.

"'What?' Ever since we got here, you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?" Sam states, angrily.

"Well, you like her, don't you?" Dean waits for a response, but Sam says nothing. "All right, you like her, she likes you, and you're both consenting adults..."

"What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave." Sam replies.

"Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam." Dean says. He knows he should back off, because the conversation can easily touch both of their issues.

"You know what, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?" Sam snaps, getting frustrated with the conversation very quickly.

"Because then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Dean says with a smirk.

Sam shakes his head with a scoff. He shouldn't be surprised by Dean's attitude. Before leaving for Stanford, Dean would always try to push him towards the "finer" things in life. But life after Stanford with Dean hasn't been that way.

Dean however, is trying to keep things light, even though he knows the conversation should be taken seriously. So he slowly sits up on his bed, and takes a deep breath. He knows Sam might try to deflect the conversation over to his issues, because, let's face it, that's what Dean would do if he were in Sam's situation right now.

"You know, seriously, Sam, this isn't about just hookin' up, okay? I mean, I think this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... .I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure that this is about Jessica, right?" Dean asks cautiously, not wanting to upset his brother more than he already has with this conversation.

Sam looks down at the table, trying to stop the tears that are slowly welling up in his eyes. It's been a while since Jessica has been brought up in any conversation, and it still hurts.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose someone like that...and we can't, I mean...our situations, you can't really compare. But, I would think that she would want you to be happy. I mean, no reason both of us have to be miserable." Dean continues, sadly.

Sam is very close to tears spilling over his cheeks, not only for Dean talking about Jessica in the way he is, but also that fact that his brother too is hurting. This is the closest Dean's brought up what's happened to him. Sure, he still hasn't admitted the words out loud. But in the last few days, has been more honest with Sam, then Sam can remember over the last few months.

Dean, however, is starting to feel uncomfortable. Not only because of the distress on his brother's face, but also because if he brings up anything more about what happened to him, Dean doesn't know if he can stick around. He'll need to go out. So, there is only one thing left for Dean to do.

"I mean, God forbid, have fun once in a while. Right?" Dean asks, with a smile.

Sam smiles faintly, as he wipes a hand over his face, trying to get ride of the tears.

"Yeah, I know she would, and um..." Sam says, not knowing what else to say.

Dean can see that hint in Sam's eyes, the one that means having a very unpleasant conversation.

"So, I don't want to be a jackass about this, alright. But you're going to have to call Sarah." Dean replies. Hoping to keep the conversation away from himself.

"Look, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica but not the main part." Sam says sadly.

"What's it about?" Dean asks.

"Isn't this getting a little too personal for you Dean?" Sam asks, a little too coldly. He doesn't want to push Dean away. He wants to show Dean that it's okay to be open about things like this. But at the moment, Sam forgets all these things, because he doesn't know how to explain the pain he's feeling.

"Right. Because when I deflect, it's such a big deal, and we get to argue in circles around each other. But no, Sammy gets a free pass doesn't he? Because I won't talk about things, that... Look, whatever shit is going on with you that you don't want to talk about. Fine, but push it aside because we still have a job. And we can't lose people over personal crap Sam, from either of us." Dean states. He keeps his masks back in place, despite the bumpy start. He doesn't want to be mean to Sam either, but he's finding there is no other choice.

Sam sighs, and stares at his cell phone on the table. He really doesn't want to talk to Sarah again, but he knows it's a necessity. Both Sam and Dean beat themselves up over victims during a case, especially if they feel extra responsible. So Sam knows that ever word that Dean spoke was the truth. He only wishes that they weren't at each others throats at the moment.

"We still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..." Dean leans back on his bed, and waits. He is exhausted.

Sam nods and lets out a sigh. He slowly picks up his phone and dials.

The room is filled with a odd silence, both brothers upset for various reasons; both personal and at each other.

"Sarah, hey. It's Sam... Hey, hi. Good, good, yeah, um, what about you?" Sam asks, he hates this, he feels like a complete idiot.

All of a sudden the mood of the room starts to change. Dean feels a smile creeping onto his face at his brother's attempt at talking to Sarah.

"Yeah, good, good, really good." Sam continues.

Dean rolls his eyes, it's official, Sam can't talk to women. So Dean sees the opportunity to kick in some of his old self into the mix.

"Smooth." Dean says quietly, with a smile.

Sam shoots Dean a look, that should be pure hate but Dean sees a bit of hope that the previous argument is now forgotten.

"So, listen, me and my brother were thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think maybe we are interested in buying it... What? ... Who'd you sell it to? ... Sarah, I need an address right now." Sam demands.

Dean is already up and off the bed, once Sam's voice changes. If the painting is sold again, who knows how much time they have.

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After checking out Evelyn's place, and finding her just a little too late. Dean and Sam find themselves back at their motel room, after leaving Sarah behind to take care of the cops. They have no idea what she'll tell them. Not that that was really the most important thing on either of their minds at the moment.

Dean slowly sat down, and opened up Sam's laptop. He wasn't really sure what more research he could do at the moment, but he needed to keep himself busy.

Sam on the other had, started to pace the room. Clearly upset at the events that took place, and most likely blaming himself for a pile of shit that isn't his fault at all.

"Damn it." Sam curses under his breath.

Dean tries to ignore his brother as he continues to poke around on the laptop, but it's hard. He wants to be the big brother, wants to ask him if he's okay. But lately they've been jumping down each others throats, snapping at each other, and Dean can't handle that right now.

Dean clears his throat, trying to decide what to do. "Sam." Dean says quietly.

"What!" Sam snaps, as he stopped pacing to look at his brother.

Dean is slightly shocked by the look on Sam's face, even though he shouldn't be.

"Nothing, sorry, I just was going to...nothing." Dean says quickly and quietly. He drops his head to look back at the laptop.

"No, tell me, what were you going to say? Were you going to say that we can't save everyone? What about how it's all my fault. And Sarah never should have been there, never should have seen any of that." Sam exclaims, pretty furiously as he drops down onto his bed.

Dean sighs, he knows that they both take turns feeling the guilt and taking the blame during hunts. But it's been awhile since they've really talked about it. Dean couldn't really see this conversation going well at all.

"Sam, we had no idea Sarah was going to show up like that. There was nothing you could do about that. Nothing about what happened tonight was your fault, okay?" Dean replies.

"Do these little motivational speeches normally work?" Sam replies, still a little moody.

"I dunno, do they work when the tables are reversed?" Dean snaps, not sure why he just said that. He doesn't want to turn the tables onto himself.

"I'm guessing not, of course not. Dean Winchester holds everything in a death grip, locked behind steel doors, away from the world. So how would I know?" Sam replies.

The conversation is getting too heated for Dean, and he wants to just bolt. But that would just give Sam more wood for the fire. And with the foster care and New Orleans events at the back of both of their minds constantly, Dean can't risk them being brought up, by either of them, accidently or on purpose.

Luckily Dean is saved by a knock on the door. The brothers stare at each other for a moment, before Sam pushes himself off the bed, and walks over to the door. His mood instantly changes when he opens the door.

"Hey." Sam says as Sarah enters the room. "You all right?"

Sam knows it's a stupid question to ask, after everything. But he couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"No, actually. I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that." Sarah replies.

Sam feels like shit. He wants to apologies like crazy for getting Sarah involved, but instead... "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm about to call 'em right back if you don't tell me what the hell is going on. Who's killing these people?" Sarah asks.

Sam looks over to Dean, looking for the answers. Should he tell the truth?

"What." Sam replies quietly.

"What?" Sarah asks, not sure what she heard.

"It's not _who_, it's _what_ is killing these people." Sam replies, not sure if the truth is the best option. But he feels it's the only one.

Sarah just shakes her head, either out of confusion or pure denial.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move." Sam concludes.

"No. No, I was seeing things. It's impossible." Sam replies,

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world." Dean says with a smile, not sure what else to say.

Dean feels uncomfortable in these situations, he hates when civilians get sucked into this world. So he tries to stay out of the conversation as much as possible, even though there isn't anything up on the laptop to really distract himself with. He briefly wonders if has been updated today.

"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted." Sam tells Sarah.

Tears start to form in Sarah eyes, and Sam's heart breaks. He hates this. He doesn't want to feel responsible for her pain, but that doesn't stop the guilt.

"You're joking." Sarah replies, trying to keep the tears away.

Sam doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. He doesn't know what to say to make this situation any better. And Sarah realizes what's happening, and her mood changes.

"You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with." Sarah replies with a small laugh.

"Sarah, think about it...Evelyn, the Telescas. They both had the painting, and there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die, and we're just tryin' to stop it. And that's the truth." Sam replies.

Sarah sighs, she doesn't want to believe what she's hearing, but the evidence is...undeniable.

"Well, then, I guess you better show me. I'm coming with you." Sarah states as she walks towards the door.

"What?" Sam replies, shocked, as he turns to follow Sarah. "No. Sarah, no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous, and..."

Dean looks up from his laptop, finally the pieces of the puzzle fitting into place. He looks over to Sam, now understanding.

"...and I don't want you to get hurt." Sam finishes.

"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this...well, my dad and I sold that painting, we might have got these people killed. I'm not saying I'm not scared, 'cause I am scared as hell, but I'm not gonna run and hide, either." Sarah says as she walks to the door.

Sam doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want Sarah involved, but it doesn't look like she's going to back down.

Dean on the other hand, is pleased by Sarah's determination. She might just be exactly what Sam needs. And he just hopes that it doesn't backfire.

Sarah stops at the door, and turns back towards Sam. "So, are we going or what?" She asks as she leaves.

Sam is shocked, and just stays rooted in place. Dean on the other hand...

"Sam?" Dean says, getting his brother's attention. "Marry that girl."

Sam shakes his head and follows Sarah out of the room. Dean just smiles and puts the laptop away, before following them out of the room as well.

--

Dean knew this whole case was hard on his brother. Not really the case itself, but the addition of Sarah. And luckily the case didn't end badly, it was close, but they all made it out in one piece.

Dean wished they could stay, wished he could give Sam that normal life, maybe with Sarah. But Dean knows that's not what Sam would want. And he doesn't think he could do normal, even for his brother's sake. Normal would be too much down time, too much time to think about all the little things that are wrong with his life.

So Sam and Dean find themselves at the auction house, saying their goodbyes. A little ritual that seems to be almost after every case since getting Sam, and it's a ritual Dean wishes never took place in the first place. Dean would like to be on the road, the second a case is done.

Dean pulls out a paper that he found, showing it to Sarah and Sam. Sure the case if finished, but knowing all the answers doesn't hurt.

"This was archived in the county records. The Merchants adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds." Dean explains.

After Sam and Sarah briefly look at the paper in front of them, Dean puts the paper back in his pocket.

"She killed them?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah, who'd suspect her, a sweet little girl? So, then she kills Isaiah and his family, the old man takes the blame...spirit's been tryin' to warn people ever since." Dean concludes.

Two workers pull the painting that is packed away in a box, past the boys and Sarah.

"Where does this one go?" A worker asks.

"Take it out back and burn it." Sarah replies.

The workers stare at her, confused.

"I'm serious, guys. Thanks." Sarah says with a smile.

The workers shrug and carry the box away. Sarah then turns back towards Sam and Dean.

"So, why'd the girl do it?" Sarah asks.

"Killin' others, killin' herself...some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark." Sam concludes.

"Maybe. I don't really care. It's over, we move on." Dean replies. Dean feels like an ass the minute the words leave his mouth. Sure, everyone knows that, but stating the inevitable kind of stings.

Sarah laughs, awkwardly.

"I guess that means you're leaving." Sarah says, trying to smile.

Sam shrugs and looks over to Dean. He doesn't know what to say. There are so many things Sam wants to say to Sarah, so many things.

After a moment of awkwardness, Dean realizes he should give his brother some time.

"I'll go wait in the car. See ya, Sarah." Dean says. Sure it's not that smooth, but Dean's tired.

Dean leaves Sarah and Sam by themselves.

Sam doesn't know what to say. Sure he has feelings for Sarah, he can admit that to himself and to maybe a small handful of people. But he's still not ready for this, so he's almost thankful to be hitting road with his brother. It's a poor excuse to push his fears and feelings aside, but it's the only thing he can do right now.

"There are a million things that I want to say to you, but for the life of me, I can't think of one." Sarah says with a smile.

Sam laughs, he feels the same way.

"Yeah, I'll miss you too." Sam replies sadly.

"You know, there's a lesson in all of this." Sarah says, with a smile.

"What's that?" Sam asks.

"We all got through this in one piece. I didn't get hurt." Sam concludes, knowing it's probably useless, but it's worth a shot.

"Yeah, I'm glad for that." Sam replies. He knows that Sarah's right, but he still can't get ride of this feeling. So he wants to get free of this conversation as easily as possible.

"So, maybe you're not cursed. Maybe...maybe you'll come back and see me." Sarah replies, hoping this conversation won't end the way she believes it will.

Sam nods slowly. "I will."

Outside, Dean waits in the car. He wants to know what's happening behind those closed doors, but all he can do is wait. And maybe, even though not likely, his brother will share.

After a moment Sam walks out of the auction house, and Dean can tell there is pain in his eyes. But Sam stops before reaching the car, which confuses Dean.

Sam then walks back to the auction house, and knocks on the door. After a moment, Sarah opens the door, surprised. Sam then leans down, and kisses Sarah.

Dean smiles. "That's my boy."

Dean watches as Sam finishes the short, but sweet kiss. Dean knows how big of a step that was for his brother, and he's proud of him. However, he does see the flaws in himself for not taking any steps forward. And he only hopes that, knowing his brother and the conversation that is bound to happen, that Sam won't point out the obvious.

Soon, Sam is sitting next to Dean, and they are on the highway towards an unknown location. The car is silent, and neither of the boys wants to be the one to start the conversation, that they both know is about to take place.

Taking a deep breath, Dean takes the bullet.

"I know it was probably hard, but I'm proud of you Sammy." Dean says, hoping that maybe Sam's not in the mood to have a serious conversation.

"Proud of me for what?" Sam asks, confused.

"The kiss, I wasn't trying to spy on you or anything, but..." Dean doesn't know how to finish that sentence, so he just leaves it hanging.

"I kind of figured you would." Sam replies, with a small laugh.

The car goes quiet for a moment before Sam continues.

"And it was hard, and I'm sure if the situation were different I wouldn't have even gotten that far." Sam replies sadly, he doesn't want to have this conversation either. But he knows it was a hard step for his brother to start this kind of a conversation, so there's no way he was going to be the one to end it.

"I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it. I don't want to get into another argument with you Sam. I'm kind of exhausted. I'll just get us to a motel, and we can crash. Sorry for bring it up." Dean replies quickly.

Sam shakes his head. Okay, so maybe Dean is exhausted, this case was a lot of work. But it seems like every time their conversations get a little too much, that's his response.

"It's okay, I don't mind talking about it Dean. You don't have to apologize." Sam replies.

Dean curses himself, he should have just kept his mouth shut.

"It's hard, I know it's been months since...since everything with Jessica. But...it still hurts so much, even now. Even to just say her name." Sam says, and tears start to form in his eyes.

Sam really doesn't want to have the conversation, it's so painfully. But he needs to do this for his brother.

"I've been kind of an ass lately, and you didn't deserve that at all. And if we were staying in town longer, I don't think I would have been able to take that step with Sarah. She's a great girl, but...it's still too soon. That kiss...I dunno, it was important, maybe sooner or later I'll be ready to move on with someone like her. She was a sweet girl. But it's still too fresh." Sam says as a tear runs down his face.

Dean looks over shortly, and mentally curses himself. He's baby brother is crying because of him, him and his stupid mouth. Why couldn't he just keep quiet?

Sam quickly wipes a hand over his face, getting ride of the tears.

"I'm sorry Sammy." Dean replies quietly.

"It's okay, it's good to talk about it once in a while. Helps with the healing process, you know?" Sam says, hinting at Dean.

Sure, Sam doesn't even know how to compare their situations. Sam lost someone he loved for a long time, and so very very much. Dean, on the other hand, had something taken away from him. Something that broke inside him, took away a part of his personality that used to shine through without any force.

"Sam, don't, please." Dean replies, knowing where Sam is going with what he said.

Dean can already feel himself drowning in unwanted emotions. Sure, things have been alluded to, here and there. But it's been awhile since his brother leant the truth, well, kind of the truth. Dean still hasn't admitted anything out loud.

"Dean, is it really that hard? It's tearing me apart inside, everything. And I'm not asking you to spill your guts and tell me every little detail about what happened to you. I'm just asking that you trust me, just a little. I mean...you still do, don't you?" Sam asks.

"Of course I trust you, you're my brother. I'll always trust you." Dean replies, feeling the panic pushing against every wall and every mast he's been fighting tooth and nail to keep in place.

"Okay, so we can both admit we're not ready for certain things. I'm not ready to move on, I can't. And it's probably still too soon for you to talk about what happened to you. But we can both admit I took a big step, okay, well, you admitted that you thought I took a big step. So maybe it's time you did the same." Sam says, knowing that he's going to get some attitude for his overly cheesy comment.

"We're not in some self-help support group or something Sam, we don't have to take steps together, we're not broken. You lost someone and that takes time. I remember how...look, you move at your own pace, and that's fine. But there's nothing for me to say. No reason for me to say the words because that's all they are Sam, words, doesn't change anything. So...just back off and give me that space already, I told you...I'll talk when I'm ready, okay?" Dean replies, hoping that it's enough to satisfy his brother.

"If it's just a word, then why can't you say it? Say what happened to you? It's not a big deal right, you just said so yourself?" Sam pushes.

Sam doesn't want to push his brother into another corner. Last time he asked his brother, well, specifically what happened, Dean practically had a panic attack. And sure, Dean never said yes to the question, "were you raped?", but it wasn't necessary. His brother's distress at the question was answer enough.

Another reason why a panic attack would be a bad thing right now, Dean's driving. Sure, it's not that busy out. Currently there isn't a car in sight. But that doesn't mean the near by ditch, or any passing trees won't case a problem if Dean freaks out.

"Why? Why do you need me to say just a word, it doesn't make any sense Sam. It doesn't change what happened. It won't suddenly put me on the healing path, so just drop it." Dean snaps. He feels his hands start to shake, so he grips the steeling wheel tighter.

"But like you said, it's just a word. So...I don't see the problem. I mean, you couldn't even say yes when I asked you specifically. Just hearing the word nearly drove you to a panic attack. So obviously it's more than a word to you. So why do you keep lying?" Sam pushes a little more, feeling himself starting to feel the panic.

Sam starts to second guess what he's doing when he sees Dean's knuckles turning white, as a result of the death grip he has on the steering wheel.

"If that's the case then, do you really want us to get into a car accident, seriously?" Dean replies, without realizing it, Dean starts driving a little slower, feeling like he should pull the car over any second and hand over the keys.

"Fine, let's just ignore it then. I'm sorry I brought it up. I just thought I'd help. I'll back off." Sam says quickly as he leans back into his seat.

Sam feels like he's failing his brother. He doesn't want to come off as an immature child, having a fit just because he isn't getting what he wants. He can't only imagine how hard this is for his brother.

"So maybe it's more than a word Sam." Dean replies quietly.

Sam gave him an out, so why didn't he take it?

Dean wants to shut up, and just keep driving. But his brother's right. It was probably so hard for him to open up even just a little to Sarah. Be that person again, if only for a little while. And even though Sam pushed against Dean at first, now he's being honest about it. So why does Dean have a hard time with it?

Sam on the other hand almost feels like crying again when he hears Dean admit those words, admit that the word has that much power over him.

"And maybe I don't want to admit it out-loud, because it scares the crap out of me. And I don't think I can handle the look of disappointment on your face whenever I do." Dean says. Feeling like he's ripping every internal organ out of his body through his mouth.

"Dean, you're an idiot." Sam says with a small laugh.

Dean frowns, confused.

"What?" Dean asks. He wants to pull the car over so bad and freak out, but he doesn't.

"I would never be disappointed in you, ever. And it's definitely not just a word, it's huge. And I can't even begin to imagine what you went through. But it wasn't your fault, and I don't want you to ever think that it was. But I'm guessing that's probably impossible. So, if you need time to even say the words out loud, then take it. I'll wait. If it takes days, weeks, months, hopefully not years..." Sam says with a smile. "I'll wait. There's no rush, and I'm sorry I keep saying that but then turn around and put pressure on you. It's just hard to sit back and do nothing."

Dean doesn't even know what to say to all that. He knows his brother just wants to help. He knows that he wouldn't judge him, or be disappointed in him. But he can't talk about it. Besides Dean's not sure if he's be able to get through the whole story without having to come up with some lame ass excuse to get away so he can rip his arms to shred. The anxiety and panic attached to the unavoidable nearly-by conversation is frightening. Dean doesn't know if he'll ever be able to talk about it.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean replies quietly.

The boys' just drive in silence, neither one knowing what to say. Both hoping for a hunt to keep their minds occupied, and distracted.

TBC

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So sorry again for the massive delay. Things got hectic after I posted the last chapter. But I hope to get another chapter our to done before the weekend to make up for it. I know this chapter is shorter than some of the previous chapters, and not so angst-filled as well. But the next chapter will be better, longer and more angst.

Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. **REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

Thanks to dreamgirl93, J-09, moira4eku, rholou, and du1287 for your kind reviews.

Timeline. I switched Provenance and Something Wicked around in the timeline. I debated about doing a chapter on Something Wicked, but decided to skip it and sum up what would have changed during the start of this chapter. Hope that satisfies everyone.

This chapter was tough to write, especially the end. So I hope it doesn't disappoint.

This chapter was edited by myself, so any errors in spelling, grammar, ect, are my own.

Warning: Slight reference to child-abuse/non-con.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 9. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 9 - DEAD MAN'S BLOOD**

Dean felt uneasy ever since they finished their job in New York. He wanted to just switch everything off, not thinking he could feel any worse. And that's when he got the text message from his father, sending them to Fitchburg, Wisconsin.

Dean has used every ounce of will not to resort to any bad behavior since the incident with Cassie in Missouri. That has been the last time he put a blade to his flesh. He wants to think he's getting better, getting past everything, but that would just be a big fat lie. It's because Sam's been a bigger constant, more caring and around. Always coming with him to the bars.

So when they took the job in Wisconsin, Dean thought he was going to crack, and not because of the memories for once. It was such a long time ago, when he nearly got Sam killed. And eventually, during the case, Dean came clean. Told Sam what happened. Sure, it wasn't a story that Sam has been waiting months to hear, but Dean was honest non the less.

Dean did, however, leave out a few details. He might have failed to mention that this event took place not too long after Dad beat Dean, and yes, Sam and Dean already talked about that event. What Dean failed to mention was, after the Shtriga nearly got his brother so many years ago, Dean expected to be punished for what he did. He felt he deserved it. But all he got was a disappointed look from his father, something that Dean felt was much worst then a beating.

Sure, technically John never really abused his kids, but at a young age, Dean did get things confused sometimes.

Dean also forgot to mention to Sam that, after that incident, after drowning in guilt over nearly getting his brother killed, and not being able to stand the look in his fathers eye, Dean discovered a nasty coping habit. Sure, it was kind of an accident at first, and even back then it wasn't as big of a deal. Dean was only a kid after all, but as the years went by and Dean got into hunting, and things starting to pile up, Dean found comfort in the cutting.

Dean was able to deal with stress in other ways, drinking when he was able to, when he got a little older. Focusing on Sam. Ignoring the problem all together. The hunt. Girls. But cutting soon got to be a bigger and bigger part.

Yes, Dean knows Sam is aware of Dean's problems. Sam knows there is something he isn't telling him about foster care, and he knows he was raped sometime during his four year absence spent at Stanford. But Dean will do whatever is takes to make sure Sam never finds out about this habit. Even if that means cutting back on it, as much as possible without completely breaking.

After finishing this case, and saving all those kids. Dean finally got a bit of a rest. Killing the Shtriga definitely helped Dean deal with some of his grief he's been holding onto about that job for years. However, the break did snap him back to the bigger issues.

And that's when things got crazy. The boys found themselves in Manning, Colorado. Everything seemed normal, and that's when their dad showed up. Everything was casual and normal, like the last fews months didn't happen.

So the boys, including their father, found themselves all staying in the same motel room. And even thought this is something Dean has been wanted ever since picking up Sam, he suddenly feels claustrophobic.

Sam took first dips on the shower, leaving Dean and his father alone in the room. His father sat down on a chair by the table and started pulling out some gear. He pulled out a laptop and a police radio.

The room is filled with silence. And Dean feels like he's drowning in it. Why isn't his father saying anything to him? He's been gone for so long. He doesn't want to catch up? Swap stories? Explain why he just up and abandoned his own son without any explanation, no word what-so-ever.

Dean feels the itch traveling through ever inch of his body. Is his father disappointed in him? Has he been keeping track of him and Sam? Did he do something... Does he know?

Dean feels like he can't breath. And when Sam gets out of the bathroom, Dean doesn't hesitate. He picks up a clean pair of boxers, a long sleeved shirt, and his bathroom stuff (toothbrush, razor, ect.) and quickly enters the bathroom without a word.

Sam notices that the room is completely silent, and he notices how quickly Dean makes his escape into the washroom. Sam looks over to his father to see that he's completely focused on the case, and it almost kills Sam. He has no idea how much his father knows about the months he's been gone, if he's been keeping tabs on him and Dean, but for some reason he feels an anger boiling inside him. He also feels sadness towards his brother. He has no idea what's going on. If this is about what happened with the Shtriga, or the building tension concerning the secrets Dean has been keeping that Sam knows bits and pieces of, or if its about their father being back and the things Dean alluded to the last time their father was around. Not wanting their father to see any weakness.

"Everything okay?" Sam asks his father.

John looks up at his youngest son. "What?"

Sam doesn't know if his father is really that oblivious to what's going on around him, or if he's just that's dense. So Sam just shakes it off. If he has to chose, he doesn't even have to think about it, everything is secondary to his brother. Nothing is more important that making sure Dean's okay.

"Nothing, I'm going to crash." Sam says as he gets into his bed.

"Alright." John replies as he goes back to his work.

Neither of them aware of the distress that Dean is having inside the bathroom.

Inside, Dean has the shower running but he hasn't made it inside. He's curled up against the tub. Kneels drawn up to his chest, tears streaming down his face, and his razor in his hand. His hand is slightly shaking, and his breathing is coming out hard as he tries not to make a sound.

The cuts on his arms that were inflicted back in Missouri are healed, and you'd only notices them if you were really really looking. Dean can pull of t-shirts at the moment. But as he looks at the razor in his hand, he debates if it's necessary. It's cold enough weather in most places that he can get away with wearing long sleeves. Besides, he usually always wears his leather jacket, regardless of the season.

Sure, Dean has resisted the urge for Sam's sake. Not wanted him to ever find out. But having their father around changes everything. He's not strong enough to handle everything that's going on inside his head.

Dean hasn't been having any terrible nightmares lately, but his dreams aren't always pleasant or uneventful. But at least with Sam knowing that something's going on and giving Dean's his space, everything works itself out. Sure there are bumps in the road, but nothing too big since Missouri.

But having their dad around changes everything. Sure, his dad is nothing like Sam when it comes to situations like these. John is much more like Dean, ignore the problem.

So Dean knows his father will not bring up any awkward conversations, or notice that Dean is in pain. But what John doesn't miss is when Dean isn't a hundred percent on top of his game, not completely focused on the hunt, because that's when mistakes happen. And John doesn't accept mistakes.

Dean doesn't know what to do. He can't be weak around his father. He can't have him leave again. He can't handle that. It might just be the thing to through his off the deep end.

So Dean drops the razor onto the ground and drops his head to his kneels as his entire body shakes with suppressed emotions.

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After getting barely a couple hours of sleep. John wakes the boys up when he hears a 911 call.

Dean and Sam find themselves driving down a deserted highway, following their father.

Sam is worried about his brother. He's barely said much of anything since they got their motel room.

"You doing okay?" Sam asks.

"What?" Dean asks, not wanted to get into this with his brother. There is too much going on.

"You seem kind of...quiet." Sam replies.

"I'm fine Sam, really." Dean lies.

Sam knows that Dean is lying, and it hurts. Dean has been slowly opening up to Sam, and he feels like the return of their father is actually a bad thing. He knows Dean always wants to be the perfect little soldier for their father, so Sam can only imagine the inner turmoil that his brother is tackling right now.

So Sam sits back in his seat and tries to relax. He wants to give his brother his much needed space, even if it kills him. Because this whole deal, it's not about Sam at all, and Sam just has to accept that.

Dean and Sam soon park the car on the side of the road. Their father insists that they wait by the car while he talks to the police officer on duty. This really ticks Sam off, and Dean can tell.

Dean could tell that Sam wanted to argue with is father, but instead he stayed quiet and waited with Dean by the car. Dean is wondering why his brother didn't make a scene. He usually doesn't care about their father's orders.

Even thought Dean always enjoys a distraction from his current issues, he doesn't want that distraction to be his little brother butting heads with his father.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him." Sam finally says.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting." Dean replies, feeling like he already knows the answer. He's used to his brother and father not seeing eye to eye. And, yes, it may be a distraction from the current unwanted memories that are trying to destroy him. But at the same time, Dean can't help but feel like everything might just add up against him. And with his father back in the picture, he can't afford to breakdown.

"What's starting?" Sam ask.

Sam doesn't get an answer though. John walks back towards them, and Dean doesn't waste anytime to change the subject.

"What do you got?" Dean asks his father.

"It was them, all right. Looks like they're headin' west. We're gonna have to double back to get around the detour." John replies.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asks, hating how his father is already bossing them around.

"Sam..." Dean warns.

"I just wanna know we're going in the right direction." Sam says, directing the comment clearly at Dean despite not taking his eyes off his father.

"We are." John states, coldly.

"How do you know?" Sam asks, standing his ground.

"I found this." John states, as he takes something out of his pocket.

Dean takes the object and takes a close look. It looks like a vampire fang.

"It's a vampire fang." Dean states.

"No fangs...teeth. The second set descends when they attack." John turns to Sam. "Any more questions?"

Sam remains quiet, even thought he wants to scream at his father. Yell at him for so many things. Why he's acting so cold, as if the last few months never happened. Like they haven't been searching for him for months. Like nothing matters but the job, and the case.

"All right, let's get out of here, we're losin' daylight. Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it." John says as he gets into his truck.

Sam laughs, but Dean doesn't. Sam enjoys the small banter, it shows him that maybe his father does have a heart after all. Dean on the other hand, doesn't see anything positive out of this whole thing.

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Sam drives this time as they follow their father yet again. Dean sits in the passenger seat and reads from some research about vampires.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent out to hunt for food. Victims are taken to nest, where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks. I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple." Dean concludes, putting the papers away.

"That's probably what Dad's thinking. Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks." Sam says bitterly.

"So it is starting." Dean states. Really not the distraction he wanted, but I guess a distraction is better than nothing right now.

"What?" Sam asks.

"Sam, we've been lookin' for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours, and there's static already?" Dean replies, feeling kind of frustrated. He hated behind in the middle of all this back before Sam even left, and he now remembers why he hated it so much.

"No. Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all workin' together again." Sam says. He knows how much his brother hates this, and he really wishes that he could put everything aside and act civil with his father. For Dean's sake, but ever time his around his father, he forgets all the pain that he knows Dean's in.

"Good." Dean replies, as he tries to relax in the seat.

"It's just the way he treats us like we're children." Sam continues, despite his better judgement.

"Oh God." Dean exclaims, rolling his eyes.

"He barks orders at us, Dean, he expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal." Sam snaps. He doesn't want to have an argument with Dean, he hates fighting with his brother. But his father has him so angry.

"He does what he does for a reason." Dean states, not wanting to put any emotion what-so-ever into this conversation, but Dean hasn't been getting what he wants lately.

"What reason?" Sam asks, more like demands.

"Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right, it's just the way the old man runs..." Dean wants to continue but Sam cuts him off.

"Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, all right? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you tellin' me you're cool with just fallin' in line and letting him run the whole show?" Sam asks, hoping he doesn't get the answer he's almost 100% positive he's going to get.

Dean thinks, there are so many things going through his head, that he can barely think. And if following their Dad blindly means that he doesn't mess up in front of him, than yeah, Dean's going to fall in line.

"If that's what it takes." Dean says, coldly.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Unbelievable."

"What do you want me to say Sam?" Dean snaps.

"Anything man! I mean, you dragged me away from everything to find the man, and now... I get it, alright, finding him was important. He's our dad. But you can't honestly be okay with this. Okay with him just acting like nothing's happened." Sam replies.

"Nothing's happened." Dean says, knowing that was the wrong thing to say.

"Please tell me you did not just say that." Sam says, feeling the anger boil even more.

"Forget I said anything." Dean says quietly, knowing it's a hopeless cause.

"No, Dean, you can't just...fuck! Don't do this to me, alright. I told you I'd give you space, and I am. And this has nothing to do with all that, alright, This is about Dad, okay. And I can't just have you shutting down on me, I can't. Because then it's just me and him, and that...I can't do it Dean. I need you with me, not just some mindless soldier. I need my brother, okay?" Sam finishes, sadly.

Dean just stares at his brother, shocked. He doesn't even know what to say to that. So he just says nothing, and sits back in his seat. Too many thoughts running through his head, that shutting down really doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. But Dean worries that Sam will only push the conversation, so Dean has to think of something.

Dean is saved by his cellphone going off, and listens as his father rambles off instructions. He listens carefully, knowing in the back of his mind that this is only going to piss Sam off even more.

"Yeah, Dad. All right, got it." Dean concludes, as he hangs up the phone. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?" Sam asks. This couldn't come at a worst time. Sam is so pissed off, he needs to take it out on someone. And he's trying so hard not to take it out on Dean, that his father might just be putting himself in the line of Sam's rage.

"Because Dad thinks we've got the vampires' trail." Dean says, hoping Sam will just listen without causing a scene.

"How?"

"I don't know, he didn't say." Dean replies.

Sam suddenly steps on the gas forcefully, and speeds down the road. Dean gets a bad feeling in his gut. Soon, Sam cuts in front of John's truck, and pulls over. John is forced to pull over also.

All three of them get out of their cars, and Dean knows this isn't going to end well. He feels like nothing is going well with his life. He finally started to feel comfortable around Sam, slowly felt like maybe there was nothing wrong with being open about thing. That maybe he could say those words out loud. But now, everything is thrown to shit.

"Oh, crap. Here we go. Sam!" Dean shouts as he quickly gets out of the car, hoping he can calm the situation. Even if he knows how unlikely that may be.

"What the hell was that?" John demands, as he approaches Sam.

"We need to talk." Sam says, just as demanding.

Dean already knows this conversation is going to end with words exchanged that one, if not both of them, are going to regret.

"About what?" John asks.

"About everything. Where we goin' Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?" Sam asks, only the beginning. There are so many things he wants to throw at his father. He just hopes he doesn't mess up and spill something he shouldn't.

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires." Dean pleads, not wanting this conversation to escalate.

"You're brother's right, we don't have time for this." John replies.

"You skipped on us, Dean especially, without so much of a goodbye, everything is well, I'm safe and alive. And now, nothing, we're going to act like nothing is wrong? And last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Now, obviously, something big is goin' down, and we wanna know what!" Sam says, voice getting louder by the second.

"Get back in the car." John barks.

"No." Sam replies, standing his ground.

Dean feels his panic growing. He's always hated these situations. But now, with everything else going on, Dean doesn't want Sam using him in this argument. Sure, his father leaving the way he did, sucked. And it hurt like a bitch, but Dean doesn't want his feelings brought into this.

"I said get back in the damn car." John says, stepping closer to Sam, trying to intimidate him.

"Yeah. And I said no. I'm not going to just ignore all this shit, I'm not like you two."

Dean knows where this is going, and he needs to put a stop to it. His brother is getting too angry, and too emotional. Who knows what will come pouring out of his little brother's mouth.

"All right, you made your point, tough guy. Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come one." Dean says, pleadingly. Hoping his brother, or his father, don't see the underlining fear and panic.

Dean starts to push his brother towards the car, hoping that his brother will leave the conversation until another time. Sure, he knows using the tired excuse, has been kind of an overkill on his part. But he can't think of anything else at this point.

"This is why I left in the first place." Sam says under his breath.

"What'd you say?" John asks, even thought he heard Sam perfectly.

"You heard me." Sam replies, as he turns to face his father.

"Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam, you walked away." John yells as he grabs onto Sam's shirt.

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean pleads.

"You were the one who said "Don't come back", Dad. You're the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off you couldn't control me anymore!" Sam shouts in his father's face.

Dean tries to pull the two of them apart. He remembers that fight over four years ago. He remember how he felt back then, but now everything is different. And he doesn't want to be dragged into this.

"All right, stop it, stop it...stop it, that's enough!" Dean shouts, as he breaks them up. He turns to his father. "That means you too."

Sam and John both angrily get back into their cars. Dean looks around.

"Terrific." He says as he too gets into the car.

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The boys quickly crash after the disaster of an argument. And luckily things get better, kind of.

Their father finally lets them in on this gun, but things don't go as planned after that. They don't get the gun, and the vampires are pissed. According to their father, once a vampire has your sent, it's for life.

So now, despite the little voice in his head that says this is a bad idea, Dean leaves his brother and father alone in their motel room. He only hopes that they don't kill each other, but he enjoys the breaks.

So Sam paces the motel room, as his father is sitting by the table. There are so many things he wants to say to his dad, but he also knows he doesn't want to cause any problems for Dean.

"It shouldn't be taking this long. I should go help." Sam says. Thinking if he can only get out of the room, he won't say anything stupid.

"Dean's got it." John replies, still looking through some papers. Trying to also not get into anything with Sam, but when Sam doesn't say anything... "Sammy..."

Sam stops pacing. He looks over to his father, to see that he's actually looking up from his papers, and is now looking at him.

"Yeah?" Sam ask.

John waits, thinking what to say, and then finally decides to have a normal conversation with his son. Something that would never happen with Dean.

"I don't think I ever told you this, but...the day you were born, you know what I did?" John asks.

"No." Sam replies, confused. He stops pacing and looks at his father, but he doesn't move from his spot.

"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you. I did the same thing for your brother. It was a college fund. And every month, I'd put in another hundred dollars, until..." John trails off, his smiles fading. "Anyway, my point is, Sam, that... this is never the life that I wanted for you."

"Then why'd you get so mad when I left?" Sam asks. Sam is confused, he's used to both his brother and father, being cold stones. No emotions, no personal conversations. And now, everything is changing.

"You got to understand something. After your mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared...ready. So, somewhere along the line, I, uh...I stopped being your father. And I...I became your drill sergeant." John says, sadly.

Sam walks towards his father, unsure. He slowly sits down across from him.

"So, when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about...my only thought was that you were gonna be alone...vulnerable. Sammy, it just...it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me...we're just different." John concludes, holding back tears.

Sam laughs, trying to cover the pain that is trying to swallow him whole. John looks at his son, with confusion.

"What?" John asks.

"We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess...we probably have a lot more in common than just about anymore." Sam says sadly, he too close to tears.

John smiles, sadly. "I guess you're right, son."

"Hey, Dad? Whatever happened to that college fun?" Sam says with a smile.

"I spent it on ammo." John replies.

There is a moment of silence before they both start laughing. Sam's laughter quickly dies as he looks towards the door again. He's really worried.

"Why are you so worried Sam? Dean goes off by himself all the time, why is today so different?" John asks.

"Nothing, it's...just, it's taking him a long time." Sam says, quietly.

"I'm sure it's nothing." John says as he goes back to his papers.

"That's it? It's probably nothing? You've been gone for months, and you don't...god, you and Dean, you two...I don't get it." Sam says as he gets off the chair and begins to pace again.

"Let's not fight Sam. I don't want your brother to come back to us yelling at each again." John replies, coldly.

"So you actually care?" Sam snaps.

"You may think that Sam, and I'm sorry. But I did make sure to keep an eye on you both. I knew what was happening, at all times. I do care Sam." John replies.

"Everything? You always knew what was happening? Like when we were in Lawrence. Or how about when I called when Dean was dying." Sam says, voice raising.

"I'm sorry, it was..." John is cut off by Sam.

"Too dangerous I know." Sam replies, quietly.

Sam gets this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't want to ask, because it can't...no.

"So why did you leave? Really? Why did you just leave without telling Dean a word. You know how much..." Sam stops himself. He doesn't want to tell his father how much his betrayal hurt Dean. Sure, it's something he hasn't discussed with Dean, but he can see it.

"I wanted to tell him more, but I couldn't. But I knew he was safe, I knew he went to see you. I don't worry about him much, he knows how to take care of himself." John replies as he goes back to his research.

Sam wants to believe him, but he can't shake this feeling. What if his father found out what happened. Sam never asked if their father knew what happened to Dean, he doesn't even know when it happened. Just that it must have happened during those four years, and sometime after Cassie. And he wants to believe so badly that this isn't the real reason his father left Dean behind.

But what is that's what happened. Their father found out what happened to his perfect little soldier, and decided he couldn't use him to go after the big bad demon. Because if that were the case, it would destroy his brother. He needs to know, but he can't ask. So he needs to just have faith in his father, that he wouldn't do something so...cruel.

The room goes quiet, and Sam knows that this is probably a bad idea. But since he's giving his brother space, he doesn't know what else to do. So Sam sits down across from his father again.

"Dad...I need to ask you something." Sam says, quietly.

John looks up, and is confused by the look on Sam's face. So he pushes some papers aside, and gets ready to hear an earful from his son. But he isn't expecting the conversation that's about to take place.

"What is it?" John asks.

"I don't...I know I shouldn't, Dean would kill me. But I want to know about something that happened when we were kids." Sam asks. He knows he can't ask about the recent rape, and wether or not that's the real reason his father left Dean behind. But maybe his father remembers what happened during the foster care incident, people and that shapeshifter did bring up a couple times.

"Um...okay, but maybe if Dean would kill you, we shouldn't talk about it." John says, confused.

"A few months ago, I'm sure it's something you tracked. It was a pretty big case for us, with what happened with Dean. St. Louis." Sam starts.

"Right, the shapeshifter, and the crime wrap now attached to Dean's name." John says, holding back a smile.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you don't know all the little details. But, um...the shifter got the jump on us a couple times. I ended up tied up in his lair, both of us, and the shifter took on Dean's appearance. And I don't know how many run ins you've had with these things. But it seems like they can download the memories and thoughts of the person they are portraying." Sam continues, trying to buy himself some time, not sure how to ask the question.

"Yeah, I've heard about that. Never got that close to one to see first hand though." John replies. "What's this about?"

"He said something to, and it's been brought up a couple times, and you know Dean. He says nothing happened, but I just...I get the feeling it was a big deal." Sam says.

"Well, I'm sure he'll talk to you eventually." John says, he wants to just go back to his research.

"Come on Dad, we all know how the two of you work." Sam says with a laugh.

"Then get to the point Sam." John says coldly.

Sam is surprised, he thought things were going a little well with his father. So either he knows what Sam's about to ask, or he's just being an ass for no reason.

"When we were kids, there was a day where child services took us away." Sam starts, and he notices the change in his father's face. "We spent a day in foster care before you found us. And I want to know what happened."

"What are you talking about?" John asks.

"Don't lie to me, and tell me that never happened. Dean gave me the footnotes. Said you left for a hunt, but came back on time, and nothing happened. But..." Sam doesn't know how to continue. He doesn't know what to ask.

"I don't know what else I can add to the story Sam, I wasn't there with you two during that day." John says, starting to look down at his research again.

"But there was something, come on Dad. Please." Sam pleads. He doesn't want to come off as desperate. And he already feels like a complete jackass for going behind his brother's back.

"Nothing happened Sam, everything was fine. I really don't see why the shapeshifter would bring that up. It wasn't exactly memorable, or eventual. There are plenty more events in Dean's life that he could have called up to get under your skin. Most of which you know about, hunts and such. He was probably just trying to cause a problem." John says.

Sam wonders if he's father is really that cold, or if he really thinks nothing happened that day. It's possible, even at that age, that Dean hide the problem even from his father. But Sam highly doubts it. So either he's lying to be nice to Dean, knowing it's something only Dean should share. Or it's one of those instances that we all just sweep under the rug and pretend like it never happened.

Before Sam can think of a way to push his father a little more, Dean enters the room. This gets both of their attentions.

Dean can see the tension in the air, the moment he walks into the room. But he can't ask the obvious question, because he has no idea what they've been talking about. So instead, he does the only thing he can do.

"Whew! Man, there's some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys." Dean says, in his usual playful tone. Even though he's panicking inside.

"Did you get it?" John asks, as both himself and Sam get up off their chairs.

Dean pulls a paper bag out of his pocket. He opens the bag and takes out a jar of blood. John approaches Dean, and takes the jar. Dean has a smile on his face, that he hopes looks believable.

"You know what to do." John says with a smile, as he sets the jar down on the table.

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The rest of the case was bumpy at best. Sam wanted to talk to Dean ever since his conversation with his father, concerning the foster care thing. And Dean felt very uneasy, not sure what he missed when he got that dead man's blood.

But the vampires are dead, well, most of them. And they got the gun. The biggest surprise however, turned out to be their father deciding to stick around. Dean wasn't sure it was that great of an idea to side with Sam, he was sure his father was going to leave regardless. So he figured making the one that was going to stick around happy wasn't such a bad idea. That is until it back fired.

Dean could barely handle having Sam around 24/7, and now his father. Sure, John Winchester pretty much ignore anything personal or emotional, even if it was breathing down his neck. So Dean shouldn't be worried about his father pushing at the awkward conversation. But if he messes up, or has a full on panic attack, Dean highly doubts his father would ignore that.

John decided to get his own room for the night, wanting to stay up doing some research and he didn't want to bother his boys. Sam worried that their father would take off again, and he could only imagine what that would do to his brother. But at the moment Sam had a bigger concern.

The brothers got ready for bed quietly, and Sam debated if he should keep quiet or not. He told his brother he would give him space. But now that their father is around, this might be the only time for awhile he could talk to his brother. And he knows that Dean will probably put up a whole lot more work to block everything out, build up more walls now that their father has agreed to stick around.

"Don't hate me for this." Sam says quietly.

Dean freezes, not sure if he heard his brother correctly. A million different scenarios running through his head. Dean's been fine the last couple nights, after his first little breakdown.

"What?" Dean asks, cautiously.

"I didn't think Dad would give me any chance to talk to you. I thought we'd be stuck with him 24/7. Starting to see how you feel." Sam says, laughing softly.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, starting to wish his father didn't suddenly decide to spring for his own room.

Sam takes a deep breath and sits down on the edge of his bed. He has no idea how to start the conversation. They are both ready for bed, both already had a shower, so Dean has no real excuse to leave the room.

"I talked to Dad, when you were gone getting the blood from dead people." Sam replies, trying to figure out how to admit to his brother what he did.

"Really, you guys talked. Shocker." Dean says, with a smile. "Really Sammy, what's up."

Dean is trying to contain the panic he's feeling. Just waiting for what Sam has to tell him to come pouring out. He's hoping it's something small, something that didn't mean anything. But the way Sam's stalling, he knows it's bad.

"I asked him about something, and please don't get mad at me. Even thought I know you will. I just...I still want to give you your space, but I thought...I donno, maybe Dad knew something." Sam continues, not looking up. Staring at his hands, folded on his lap, not wanting to look at his brother.

"Okay, you're started to freak me out Sam. What did he say? Or I guess the biggest question is, what the fuck did you ask him?" Dean demands, trying to stand his ground. He's by the table, but he really wants to be standing right over his brother. Force him to talk.

"I asked him what happened that day we were taken into foster care by child services." Sam replies, finally looking up to look at his brother.

"What?" Dean yells, no longer able to stay in place. He walks over to Sam, pulling him off the bed and slams him into the wall.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Dean says, still angry. He needs to stay angry or else the other emotions will push through. But Dean lets go of Sam and starts pacing. Sam stays against the wall.

"I asked you, fuck! I asked you to just give me space. I said I trusted you, but you go behind my back. I mean really. Why is this bugging you so much. God fucking damn it!" Dean yells as he kicks the near by chair.

Sam is surprised by Dean's anger, sure he wasn't expected Dean to be happy about all this. But Dean always said nothing happened that day, so if that were really the case, why would he care.

"He said nothing happened." Sam says, softly. Not wanted to piss his brother off by having a yelling match.

Dean stops pacing, and turns to face his brother. Practically giving him the 'deer caught in the headlights' look. Dean's surprised. Either his father really thinks nothing happened, or he's in denial, or he respects Dean's privacy. Because, sure Dean might have forgotten about the incident the last...almost 20 years. But now that the memories seem to be seared into his brain, permanently. Dean does know that his father walked into a room, years ago, to find a large much older man, pressed up against his eight year old son with his finger up Dean's ass.

"What?" Dean asks, in disbelief. And almost regrets it the minute he asks. It's a little hard to deny now that nothing happened back then. Sure he couldn't deny the more recent event that keeps him up at night, but he thought he might get away with his brother not caring about this one.

"I thought you'd deny everything again, say 'dad's right, nothing happened.' But this, you really thought he told me something, didn't you." Sam says.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and sits down on his bed, well, almost collapses onto it. He wants to come clean, tell his brother everything, about what happened when he was eight and what happened less than a year ago. But it's all still too much. Big tough Dean Winchester should be able to handle something like this, but for some reason it's still tearing him apart.

Sam slowly pushes himself off the wall, and takes a seat on his bed, across from his brother. He can tell that is brother is shaking slightly and he feels like shit for bringing this up.

"Now, I don't know what happened back then, but I'm guessing from your reaction that there is something that he could have told me." Sam pauses, wants to see if he's brother is going to talk or shut down.

Dean just sits there, numbly. He doesn't know what to do. Talk, run, just lock himself in the bathroom and... Dean feels like he's going explode. He can't have this conversation with his brother, he doesn't want to breakdown in front of Sam. Sure, Sam has shown his emotions to Dean, and Dean's never thought any less of his little brother. But Dean can't change spots with him, he can't. But it looks like his choice is yet again taken away from him, and maybe now is the time to at least let his brother in a little.

"So I don't know if Dad just decided that it was something that you should tell me, or he really doesn't think anything happened. I really hope it's option number one, but with our family..." Sam concludes, sadly.

"Sammy....please." Dean pleads softly.

Sam is shocked into silence. Tears shine in Dean's eyes, threatening to fall. Sam doesn't know what to do. Every time this happens, during the last few month, Sam is shocked. Pre-Stanford age, Dean never let his emotion shows. But lately, things has been complicated.

"I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it. I just thought I'd tell you want I did, in case...well, in case Dad decided to say something." Sam replies, hating that he said anything in the first place.

"He's going to leave again, fuck." Dean says, as he buries his face into his hands.

"He's not going to leave Dean. He...he's not going to say anything to you, I'm sure of it. It's one of the annoying things you guys have in common." Sam says, hoping to comfort his brother with only his words. Knowing if he tries to touch him, Dean's only going to freak.

Dean quickly gets up, wipes his hand over his face quickly. Trying to get ride of any evidence of weakness.

"Sam....I want to tell you, I do, but...I can't talk about the other thing. I still can't say those words out loud. I can't, I'm sorry." Dean says, keeping his back to his brother.

"That's fine, whatever you want to tell me if fine. Get it off your chest. No rush." Sam replies, softly. He stays on the bed, not wanting to scare off his brother. Wanting to give him space.

Dean takes a deep breath before he tries to think of where to start. He tries to stop himself from shaking. He can't breakdown, and he definitely can't have a panic attack.

"It really doesn't surprise me that you never heard about what happened until recently. I um...I think I tried to erase it from my memory or something. I donno." Dean starts, keeping his back to his brother.

"You repressed the memory, is that what your saying." Sam asks, trying to remain calm.

Dean nods, not knowing how to continue. Sam gave him an out, why didn't he take it. He thought it would be easy talking about something that happened so long ago. But for Dean, it doesn't feel like it happened that long ago, he feels like it happen not even a year ago. It feels like both crappy events are intertwined.

"Dean, can you at least....can you even just look at me. I don't really like having a conversation with your back." Sam says, hoping he didn't sound cold. That's not what he wants.

"This is hard Sammy." Dean says sadly, keeping his back to his brother.

"I know, I'm sorry." Sam replies.

Dean takes a deep breath, and turns to face his brother. Dean slowly takes a seat on the near by chair, keeping the distance between himself and his brother.

"I uh...yeah, I must have repressed it or something. I don't know how all that shit works." Dean says, with a soft laugh.

Sam smiles sadly. There are so many things that he wanted to say before now, but at this moment, nothing. He wants to give his brother the time to find the words. He can't imagine how difficult this must be for him.

"It was only recently, when some fine gentlemen decided to refresh my memory, when everything came flooding back. I guess I should thank them, huh? Can't only hang onto the good childhood memories, huh?" Dean asks, as he wipes his face again as the tears threaten to fall. He can't cry, but it's so hard. He wants to just shut himself down. He's been living with the pain, and the nightmares for months. Being able to deal with them on his own. But now...saying everything out loud.

"Dean, it's okay, whatever happened back then." Sam says softly, not sure if even he believes the words. He has no idea what to expect.

"It's not okay, I was so...stupid. It shouldn't have happened." Dean says, more angry at himself than anything.

"You were eight, I highly doubt that you could have stopped whatever happened." Sam says, he really wishes he could smack his brother. Why does he always put the weight of his world on his shoulders.

"No, you can't know that, you can't. You weren't even..." Dean doesn't know what to say, he doesn't want to have the conversation. He's finding it harder to breath.

"Where was I? Not that I remember anything anyways, I was only four." Sam asks. Then he notices Dean's distress.

"Dean, just take a breath, and calm down. You don't have to rush this." Sam continues, staying on the bed, even thought he wants to be closer to his brother. Offer him more comfort.

Dean takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. But he's only harassed by the unwanted memories. Not helping the situation at all.

"You were so scared Sammy. You just...you wanted Dad. I was trying so hard to comfort you, but you were so upset." Dean starts softly.

Sam feels a great amount of guilt. Not really for what he put Dean through. He was only four, so of course he'd be upset when taken to a strange place. But Sam feels sad for the amount of responsibility that was thrown at his brother after their Mom died.

"And I...I knew Dad was supposed get home that day, but that was only if he was on time. And that rarely happened, you know. But I just...I had this bad feeling you know. We didn't know these people." Dean continues, so far so good. That is until he gets to the hard part.

"Foster care doesn't have the greatest wrap sheet, I know. So, what happened next. I'm guessing Dad didn't get there in time to stop whatever happened." Sam concludes, sadly.

Dean laughs, only to stop himself from crying. His hands start to shake, and he really wishes he were drunk for this conversation.

"I finally calmed you down, and fed you some lie about playing hide and seek. There weren't a lot of hiding places in the small little room we were in. But I managed to hide you in the closet, under some coats and blankets, and stuff." Dean continues.

Dean felt a lump forming in his throat, and tears threatening to fall again. He was getting to the hard part. He didn't know how to explain this to his brother.

Sam can't stay seated any longer, and he slowly gets up off the bed. This causes Dean to shake even harder.

"It's okay, I'm just going to sit across from you at the table. Alright?" Sam asks, softly as he picks up the chair that Dean kicked early and takes a seat across from his brother.

Dean tries to smile, his brother is being really patient with him. He feels like an idiot.

"So you were safe, or at least I hoped you were. Um...I don't really remember much after that, I think I might have tried to take a peek out into the hall. See what was happening. Then this man, he came into our room. He was older, older than dad. His face was...it was scarred. And I remember trying so hard to play the tough guy, but I was so scared. Dad didn't start training me yet. I knew what he was doing when he left us, but he didn't start training me how to fight or anything, you know." Dean continues. A tear falls down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away.

Sam too feels like crying, but he holds it together. Needing to be strong for his brother at this moment. But he's finding it hard.

"I really thought he was going to kick my ass, you know. He got all up in my face, actually hit me around a little bit." Dean stops, he can't finish the story. He can't breath.

"I can't Sammy." Dean pleads. Hoping his brother will let him stop talking, let the memories stay where they are. He can't say them out loud. Can't give them that power.

"Dean, you can't keep it bottled up, it's going to kill you." Sam says sadly. He knows what his brother wants, an out. But he gave him one at the beginning of the conversation, and his brother didn't take it. He can't stop now.

Dean gets up and starts pacing, he can't look at his brother. He doesn't want to see the look on his face when he continues this story. Tears are threatening to fall down his face again, but he can't let them fall because he's not sure he can make them stop again.

"He said a lot of things, about Dad not wanting us anymore, but I knew it was a lie. And I held onto that for dear life. He also kept asking about you, but there was no way I was letting him get his hands on you. So I just let him hit me. It's not like it was a big deal really." Dean continues, trying to buy his time.

"It is a big deal Dean, you were just a kid. He shouldn't have..." Dean cuts his brother off.

"That's not the worst part." Dean says, and he stops. Keeping his back to his brother, not knowing how to continue.

Sam feels like he can't breath. He thought, maybe Dean just got beat up a little. It could have been a big deal at the time, being that young. Even though Dean still won't admit it, he knows it was a big deal when it happened with their dad the one time. But now, he feels like it's something much bigger. Not just getting beaten up. Which he should have caught onto earlier, what with how the memories returned to his brother.

"Oh god." Sam says softly, feeling like he's going to be sick.

"Please don't Sam. I can't finish this if you..." Dean turns to face his brother, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

Sam sucks in a breath, his heart feels like its breaking into a thousand pieces. He's never seen his brother in so much pain, like he has the last few months. He feels just as helpless as he did back in Lawrence, and St. Lois, and after asking his brother if he was raped. Why can't they ever catch a break?

"He kissed me." Dean says softly, as he furiously tries to wipe the tears from his face. He's shaking like crazy, as his body just wants to burst into sobs. So he sits down again across from his brother, trying to pull in a calming breath.

"I'm so sorry." Sam says softly.

"Don't Sam, don't say that. You couldn't...just, for the next five minutes please, just don't say anything. Or else I don't think I can finish this story." Dean says, not looking at his brother.

Tears start to fall down Sam's face, and he just nods. He can't move, not even to get ride of the tears on his face. Dean was only eight, and sure Dean's not finished the story. But he can only imagine what happened next. But he waits, hoping that the story has a happier ending than what he's imagining.

"He just kept kissing me, I didn't know what to do. He was...so strong. At least, I mean...I was eight, so..." Dean stumbles on his words, searching his brain.

Sam wants to say something, tell his brother it's okay. But he promised he'd stay quiet.

"I was probably crying like a little girl, just like now." Dean says with a laugh. Wiping his face again, the tears finally slowly down as he takes a calming breath. Sure, the joke isn't really a joke, so he really shouldn't be laughing. But he needs a little humor to lighten his mind a little.

"Then he, uh...took my belt off. Stopped kissing me finally. I guess he couldn't do two things at the same time. What an idiot." Dean says with another laugh.

Sam feel sick, and he finally wipes his face clear of his tears. Drawing on his anger to keep himself strong.

"I remember hearing voices from outside the room, and I remember praying that Dad would come in and rescue me. God." Dean shakes his head.

Sam wants to ask if Dad did save him, but he stays quiet. He's sure Dean will get to everything soon enough. And then he will help his brother work through it.

"He probably did this to every kid in that place, and it...god, why are people so fucked up?" Dean asks, knowing his brother will stay quiet. So he takes a breath, thinking for a moment before he continues.

"He uh...he put his hand down his pants. It seemed so weird at the time. Nothing like that ever happened to me before, I was eight. And then he mocked me. Told me my dad wasn't coming to save me. And then all the voices we were hearing outside the room were probably from jealous kids. And it make me sick, I guess it gave me the strength I needed in that moment. And I punch him in the face. Probably not that hard or anything, but it was enough to get him away from me. I ran as fast as I could to that door, and I screamed for Dad." Dean stops.

He risks a glance over to his brother. He's expecting to see disappointment, but it's not there. There are tears on his brother's face, and Dean feels his own tears filling up his eyes yet again. He feels like a weak little girl. So he looks away from his brother, hoping he can get the story finished, not much left.

"But of course, I didn't get far. I think he must have bashed my head into the door or something because things got a bit hazy. But I do remember the sick feeling I got when he put his hands all over me. And then...he, uh...fuck." Dean can't finish. He can't breath.

It's not like this is the worst story, his father did save the day that time before he got to the end result. He's father however didn't save the 26 year Dean from the three crazy men. But that's a story for another time, not right now.

So why can't he finish this story. He really can't get air into his lunges and his starting to panic. He leans forward in his chair, he knows if he tries to stand he'd probably fall on his ass. He can't see his brother's face, but he's sure he's started to panic as well.

"Sammy...I can't...I can't breath." Dean gasps, and it doesn't take long for Sam to be knelt by Dean's side.

Sam starts rubbing comforting circles on his brother's back.

"You need to calm down, you're going to pass out. It's okay. Whatever happened next, it's okay. Nothing can happen to you now. It's just you and me in here. That's it, no one else." Sam says softly.

Dean starts to calm down, but he couldn't stop the tears that start pouring down his face again. He shakes his head, and sits up. And Sam takes the cue and pulls away from his brother.

"You okay?" Sam asks, knowing it's a stupid question.

"God, you must think I'm so pathetic." Dean says with a soft laugh.

Sam stays next to his brother. He's scared his brother's going to have another panic attack, and if he does, he's not sure if he'll be able to talk his brother out of it.

"I don't think your pathetic. I think what happened to you, it sucks. And that man, he deserves so much pain. But you were only eight Dean, there was nothing you could have done. He was too strong." Sam says, not sure if that's helping.

"I know, I think. I still think I could have done more, just kept running, anything." Dean says as he wipes his face. Trying to get ride of the tears, even thought it's pointless at this time. His brother's already seen them.

"Dean, if you don't want to...I can...damn it. Dean, I don't know what to say. I want to help you, okay, but if the story is too hard for you to finish. I can understand that." Sam says, feeling the tears threatening to fall again.

"It's almost done, but can you...can you sit back down again. I can't....you're too close." Dean says, avoiding Sam's stare.

"Okay." Sam says softly, as he gets off the floor and takes his seat.

"So, next came a pain that I've never experienced. And for the longest time, it was the worst feeling that I've ever felt. And yeah, Dad came to the rescue, but not before the guy...not before he..." Dean takes a deep breath, and the tears start to fall again.

"He didn't...Dean, did he?" Sam doesn't know how to ask his brother the question again. It was hard enough the first time.

"No, he didn't...he didn't get that far. But, he still. Oh god, I can't...pulling the band-aid off, huh." Dean takes a deep breath.

"He-put-his-finger-up-my-ass." Dean says in a rush.

Sam barely caught what Dean said, but he didn't want to make Dean repeat himself. He got enough of it to know what he said. The man didn't rape him, but close enough. The pain and humiliation Dean must have felt at such a young age, it doesn't surprise Sam that Dean repressed all that.

"So, Dad knew some of what happened?" Sam asks.

"We never talked about it. But yeah, I think I kind of spaced out or something. But Dad must have came in, saw what the man was doing and lost his shit. I don't know what happened to the guy, but I know dad at least beat the crap out of he. He then asked me if I was okay, and then it was all about you. Not that I blame him, you know, you were still so young. But there you were, asleep in the closet, totally unaware. I kind of was jealous of that." Dean says sadly.

"I'm so sorry Dean, I didn't...I'm sorry." Sam says, not know what else to say, feeling like an idiot.

"What's done is done, right? I don't...um...can we drop it, alright? It's not important." Dean says as he gets up off the chair. Not sure what to do now.

"It is important. I'm sorry for what happened to you. And I really hope that Dad didn't say anything because he didn't want to share your personal....I donno. But, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I just...if you ever need to talk about it more, or anything you can. And thanks, for trusting me with this." Sam says, wipes his eyes, feeling like he wants to cry, either that or break something.

"Thanks, but I can't...I feel like...um...I'm sorry." Dean says as he rushes to the washroom. He'd rather leave the motel completely. But Sam in between him and his exit.

Dean locks the door behind him and collapses on the ground. He doesn't have the strength to turn on the shower, or the tap on in the sink. Nothing to cover up his sounds as a sob tears through his chest. Dean pulls his knees to his chest, and buries his face into his knees as he continues to cry.

Sam tries to open the bathroom door, but he finds it locked. Which shouldn't surprise him. He starts crying himself as he hears his brother's sobs coming from behind closed doors.

"Dean." Sam forces out, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Please let me let me in. I just...I'm so sorry. I just want to help you. Don't do this. Don't shut me out." Sam says as he collapses onto the ground, and leans against the bathroom door.

"Please, go away Sammy." Sam hears Dean say. The voice muffled by the door in between them, as well as his brother's sobs.

The two brothers stay there, both crying for what seems to be hours. Sam's tears dry up a lot sooner then his brother's as Sam can still hear his brother's sobs coming from inside the bathroom.

"Dean, I'm going to uh...I'm going to go get us some coffee or something alright. I'll give you some time. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me." Sam says softly as he gets up off the ground and quickly leaves the motel room.

Sam feels like he's drowning. Not only was his brother raped recently, but he was almost raped as a child. He can't imagine how much afford it's been taking to keep everything together.

Inside the washroom, Dean stops crying and lifts his head up. His face is wet with tears, and his eyes are red and puffy. Why would Sam think he would hate him?

He slowly pushes himself off the floor and opens the bathroom door. The room is empty, and Dean feels like his heart is ripped from his chest, yet again.

He makes his way to the door, and opens it. He's expecting to find his car missing from the parking lot, but he isn't expecting to see his brother. He's leaning over the railing, he's clearly been sick, and he's crying again.

"Why would you think I'd hate you?" Dean asks, he voice raw from all the crying.

Sam jumps, and turns to face his brother. Sam looks surprised, but the tears don't stop falling down his face.

"You didn't want to talk about it, but I...I went behind your back. I talked to Dad." Sam says, still crying.

"You're hearts in the right place, I could never hate you. But I'm exhausted. You never told me this chick-flick moments take so much out of ya." Dean says with a smile.

Sam laughs, wiping his hand across his face. He's actually happy for the comic relief, when usually in these situations he'd hate it. But he's too tired for once. He's just thrown up over the side railing, and has cried more than he has in months.

"Sorry about that, but now you know." Sam replies with a smile.

"Okay, well, now I know. So how about we catch some shut eye. Knowing Dad he'll have us up in oh..." Dean looks at his watch and cringes. "Three hours, with a new hunt and expect us ready for the road."

"Alright, sounds good. But Dean, I am sorry." Sam says sadly. Wanted his brother to at least now that before they end the conversation.

"I know you are, but you don't need to. You didn't do anything wrong. And I hope that...well, you're a good brother Sam. So, lets call this a day and hit the hay. How does that sound?" Dean says, hoping his brother will agree to his terms. Because if he wants more of these sharing crap, there will be nothing stopping Dean from taking off and either getting drunk or cutting his arm into pieces.

"Sounds like a good plan. Thank you Dean." Sam says as he pulls his brother into a hug, despite his better judgement.

Dean freezes, the Winchesters rarely do hugs, so this makes his very uncomfortable. But luckily, Sam pulls away quickly.

"Sorry, I don't...sorry. Let's get some sleep before the drill sergeant wakes us up at the crack of dawn." Sam says, as he enters the motel room.

Dean stays outside for a moment, taking a deep breath. So he ripped his guts out, and he actually does fee a little better. Sure, it's still not gone. There is still the big looming conversation that Dean knows has to happen at some point. The one that doesn't involve a rescue before the big bad man takes everything from Dean.

So Dean tries to get some sleep, despite the nightmares that still plague him. But the nightmare only really consists of the more present day horrors. His eight year old self seemed to take a break that night. Maybe talking about it does help. But he barely got through this conversation, he still needs some time to work up to the next one.

**TBC**

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Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. It was tough to write. Kind of nervous about it.

**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

And thanks to unicornofrainbow, J-09, and rholou for your kind reviews.

Sorry for the delay. This chapter gave me a hard time at parts. I also edited it myself, so I'm sure I may have missed some spelling and grammar mistakes, so I take all the blame if there are any.

Warning: Very slight reference to non-con. Self-harm.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 10. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 10 - SALVATION**

The next couple days were tough for both boys. Their father drove them around, looking at a job, one that was pretty easy. So their father wasn't unaware of the tension that surrounded the family.

Dean felt terrible, he didn't want his brother to treat him any differently. He wished he could take everything back, and decide to take the out Sam gave him. Sure, Sam hasn't really been acting any differently, but Dean can tell his brother's concern has only doubled since that night.

Sam on the other hand, hates himself. He can tell his brother feels like shit, completely uncomfortable around him. He wants to tell his brother that everything is fine, but he's sure that wouldn't help the situation. All he can do is offer his brother space.

There father doesn't seem to notice anything. And Dean is having a harder time keeping everything together. His urge to cut is almost suffocating, to the point where he won't bring anything sharp inside the washroom with him. And he'll only shave in the morning while the door is open, so that he's not tempted.

After finishing up a simple hunt, their father finally sits them down and lets them in on everything he's got. This surprises both of the brothers. And Sam can tell that Dean is slightly relieved that they are getting into the bigger monsters. Bigger things to distract himself with.

So the three Winchesters are sitting in a motel room, John has research everywhere; on the table, the walls. He also has the colt on the table. Sam and Dean listen to their father speak.

"So, this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? And not a trace, just nothing...until about a year ago. For the first time, I pick up a trail." John says.

"That's when you took off." Dean concludes, it makes sense. Why wouldn't his father take that lead.

"Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation." John continues. He knows it's a poor excuse for abandoning his son, but hopefully Dean can understand.

"All right, so, what's this trail you found?" Dean asks.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California..." John pauses for a moment, to look at Sam. He knows this isn't going to be an easy conversation. "Houses are burning down to the ground. It's going after families...just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam asks, wanting to ask about California, but he's not sure he wants to know.

"Yeah...the night of the kid's six-month birthday." John informs them.

"I was six months old that night?" Sam asks. He never knew that much information about that night. It's something they rarely talked about.

"Exactly six months." John replies sadly.

"So, basically, this demon is goin' after these kids for some reason...the same way it came for me? So, Mom's death, Jessica...it's all 'cause of me?" Sam asks, getting upset.

_Shit._ This really isn't want Dean wanted. He wanted a change, something to distract both of them. But this, this isn't want he wanted.

"We don't know that, Sam." Dean say, trying to remain calm.

"Oh, really, 'cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean." Sam says, practically yelling.

"For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault." Dean says, trying to pull his brother back.

"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem!" Sam yells.

"No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!" Dean says, also raising his voice.

"Okay. That's enough." John says as he stands up.

The room goes completely silent for a moment. Nobody knowing what to say.

"So, why is it doing it? What does it want?" Sam asks, trying to stay calm.

"Look, I wish I had more answers. I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..." John trails off, not sure how to tell his youngest son that he was too late to save his girlfriend.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Dean asks, trying to keep everything like a regular job.

"There's signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area...cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and..." John feels his own emotions coming to the surface.

"These things happened in Lawrence." Dean can see the pain on his father's face. He always hated it when his father talked about what happened, his father never took it well.

John nods. "The week before your mother died."

John doesn't want to admit the next part, but he knows that he has to. This is the hardest conversation he's ever had with is boys. So John turns and faces Sam.

"And in Palo Alto...before Jessica. And these signs...they're starting again." John concludes.

Dean looks towards Sam, knowing that this conversation has to be hard on him, just like his father. They've all lost so much because of this demon.

"Where?" Sam asks, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Salvation, Iowa." John states.

Sam just nods, trying to take in all the information.

"All right then, what are we waiting for." Sam replies.

Sam doesn't wait for an answer, he starts packing up his stuff.

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Dean and Sam soon find themselves in the Impala, following their father. The car is quiet, both boys having so much on their minds.

"You going to be okay with this?" Dean asks. Wanted to make sure Sam's head is on straight.

"What?" Sam asks, looking over at his brother. But Dean keeps his focus on the road.

"I just want to make sure your head right. I remember how dad could be in the early years after mom. I just don't want you doing anything stupid, alright." Dean says, a little too coldly.

"I'm fine. I won't fuck anything up, I promise." Sam replies, just as coldly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...forget it." Dean says quietly.

"Perfect." Sam snaps.

Sam hates this. The last couple days, he's felt like shit and completely helpless. His brother took a huge step, finally opening up. And now...it's like they are further apart.

"I'm sorry, it's just...it's little much. Everything." Sam replies, quietly.

"I know. I just...if this is the real deal. I don't want you or dad getting hurt. I know how much this means to both of you, but..." Dean doesn't know how to continue.

"I know. It's just...for awhile, I kind of forgot you know. We were on the road, there were other thing..." Sam trails off, not wanting to admit that his worry for Dean took over his mind.

"Me." Dean says softly, hoping he's wrong.

"Yeah, everything with you. We were on the road. Jessica, finding dad. and the demon, it all kind of...I donno, didn't seem as important for a while. And now, everything I guess is just hitting me a little harder than if I didn't forget about it all in the first place." Sam finishes sadly, he doesn't want his brother to feel bad for this. But he's almost sure that he will.

"I'm sorry, you never should have had to worry about me and my many problems." Dean says softly.

"Don't do this Dean. Don't. It's not your fault. I wouldn't change what happened this last year, I wouldn't. Okay, maybe somethings would have been nice if they never happened. But...this isn't going to be weird now. Is it?" Sam asks.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, clearly confused.

"I'm still giving you space, so don't take this as me pushing you. I just...I don't want you to completely shut me out after what you told me a couple nights ago." Sam says, hoping this doesn't make everything worse.

"I'm sorry, I didn't...look, this is how I handle things, you know that Sammy. I focus on other things, especially the hunt. And I can't...if we're really going after the thing that killed mom. I can't be unfocused. So, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to shut you out. I just..." Dean feels exhausted.

"Okay, I just...wanted to make sure." Sam says softly.

Before either of the brothers can think of something else to say, their father pulls over to the side of the road. Dean gives Sam a confused look, before pulling over to the side of the road as well.

Everyone gets out of their cars, and Dean can tell that something is wrong the second he looks at his father's face. Neither Sam, nor Dean has a chance to ask what's wrong before John hits his car angrily, cursing.

"Damn it." John yells.

"What is it?" Dean asks cautiously.

"Son of a bitch!" John seems not to have heard Dean.

"What is it?" Dean asks again.

"I just got a call from Caleb." John finally says, after taking a calming breath.

"Is he okay?" Dean ask, hating the look on his father's face. It can't be good.

"He's fine. Jim Murphy is dead." John states.

Sam almost wants to laugh at the subtlety of it all, but he knew that wouldn't go over well. They all cared for Jim. So all this was like a punch to the gut for both boys.

"Pastor Jim?" Sam asks, and his father just nods. "How?"

"Throat was slashed...he bled out." John states, trying to stay disconnected.

Dean and Sam are both stunned. Neither knowing how to process this news.

"Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place." John replies, trying to keep everything normal. As if talking about a regular victim, but he can feel the pain building in his chest.

"A demon?" Dean asks, and John nods slightly. "The Demon?"

"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close." John replies.

"What do you want to do?" Dean asks. Knowing that his father was close to Pastor Jim, but also knowing that his father won't want to change course.

"Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's gonna be six months old in the next week." John states coldly, needing to jump back into his role.

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How the hell are we gonna know which one's the right one?" Sam asks, not wanting to cause a problem right now.

"We'll check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?" John shouts, not wanted to get angry.

Sam is shocked, and doesn't know what to say. He's seen his father angry a lot, a couple time even since they got him back. But this, this was different.

"No, sir." Sam says quietly.

They all slowly move back to their cars. John turns back to his truck but stops.

"Dad?" Dean asks, hating to see his father like this. It's so rare.

After a moment, John turns to face his sons.

"Yeah...it's Jim. You know, I can't..." John trails off, sadly. "This ends. Now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

John gets into his truck, and Dean just stands there. He's shocked. He doesn't want this rage to destroy his father. Before Sam can think of something to say, Dean gets back in the car.

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Dean had a lot of good memories of Pastor Jim and it hurt to think that he's gone. Another casualty to this stupid, pointless war. And he could only imagine how bad his father must feel, Pastor Jim was a good friend to their dad.

So they all split up, and headed to find every kid that would be turning six months in the next week. Dean got to talk to a pretty little nurse, and he really wanted to just take her out. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why does he have to feel like this? Why does his family have to be in constant pain?

Dean is the first one back the motel room, and that's a very bad thing. Because once the door closes behind him, he feels the panic rising in his chest. It's the first time since their father joined them on the road, that he got some time to himself. Completely alone.

Dean started to panic, he couldn't have a panic attack. His brother or father couldn't come back and find him passed out on the floor. How would he lie his way out of that?

His attention is drawn to the weapon's bag that is by the table. Their father was in a rush, so they just threw all their bags into the room quickly, before all heading out to do their research. So Dean slowly walks over to the bag, trying to control his breathing. His body already shaking like crazy.

He knows what he's going to find in that bag. Knives, guns, and other various weapons. So no, he can't. He turns his back to the bag. He needs something to distraction himself with, so he walks over to Sam's bag. He pulls out Sam's laptop, with shaking hands. Dean freezes when he sees a small switchblade on top of Sam's clothes. Probably silver. Both boys carrying around something small wherever they go, just in case. Obviously his brother didn't think he needed it for his trip to the hospital.

Dean collapses onto the ground, setting the laptop down next to him. He stares at the small switchblade for a moment before slowly picking it up. He quickly gets to his feet and throws off his jacket. He's luckily wearing a long sleeved shirt underneath his jacket, so he rushes into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Dean sits down on the edge of the bathtub. His hands shake as he opens up the switchblade and stares at it. He has no idea when his brother or father could be getting back, but that's the smallest concern in his mind. All his pain is overwhelming. It's been so long.

Dean slowly takes off his shirt completely, and throws it onto the ground. He then strips down completely and gets into the shower. He can't risk getting blood on his clothes, not when he has no excuse for it. No hunt, no recent injuries.

Dean sits down in the tub, and pulls his knees up against his chest. He's shaking, and he feels a panic rise in his chest. He shouldn't do this. What if Sam gets back? What if he can tell something's wrong? But Dean needs something, he's been pushing so much behind his walls that he can feel them cracky.

Despite the tension it created, Sam probably thought that Dean opening up to him a couple night ago was a good thing. And at the time, well, after the fact, Dean thought he felt a little bit of weight lifted off him. But now, that he's completely alone with a shiny knife in his hand, he feels like nothing has changed. And to add to everything, Pastor Jim is gone. He'll never see him again.

Tears drop onto Dean's knees, and Dean quickly wipes the tears from his face with his free hand. He feels pathetic, weak. Why can't he be more like his father, he wonders. He father would never be in this situation, and his father never would have gotten himself into the situation that Dean found himself in in New Orleans. God, he still can't even say the words out-loud and it's almost been a year. What's wrong with him?

Taking a deep breath, Dean closed his eyes. Maybe if he could just control the panic, he wouldn't have to do this. He wouldn't have to hide yet another mistake, another weakness. But the second Dean was surrounded by darkness, the pain only increased. Images of the scarred foster care man, his father's disappointment over failures, disappointment over almost getting Sammy killed, sharp pain, laughter, and the faces of three men; all that and other feeling hit Dean like a ton of bricks.

Dean's eyes snap open, and more tears run down his face. He can barely breath. He has no choice. He places the blade over healed skin, his entire body shaking. Without thinking about it, Dean's brain too focused on other things, he lets the blade sink into his skin. Making one cut, and then another. Dean stops after there are four cuts alone his arm. There is more blood than he's used to, his first cut was deeper than he wanted it to be. He'd usually have to cover his arm completely in tiny little cuts to get this much blood.

Dean curses himself, but he's now calm. And Dean can now feel the pain pulsing through his arm. He drops the blade to the ground of the tub, and jumps at the loud clang it makes when it makes contact with the bottom of the tub.

Dean just sits there, watching the blood. Knowing he should clean himself up, see if he needs to stitch that first, careless, stupid cut. That's when he really starts to panic, he hears the door of the motel room open and close. Dean's eyes widen in fear, and he holds his breath.

"Dean? Sam?" Dean hears his father shout from the other side of the closed bathroom door.

"Shit." Dean curses to himself, he can't go out there, not now. Not to mention the fact that he's completely naked, he doesn't quiet now how to explain the bleeding arm to his father. So Dean does the only thing he knows how.

"Dad! I'm about to take a shower. Hate those smelly hospitals. I pulled out Sam's laptop, was about to start the research. I'll be out in a second." Dean yells.

Dean doesn't wait for a response from his father. He quickly stands up and starts the water. The water washes away the blood, as most of the cuts have stopped bleeding. Dean looks at his arm, the first cut is still bleeding slightly, and Dean wants to kick himself. Why did he have to do this. His father is right outside the bathroom, why is he so stupid?

Dean keeps his arm out of the water for a moment, and the blood seems to stop flowing down his arm. Dean breaths in a sigh of relief, maybe the cut isn't so bad.

Dean gets of out the shower, and dries off, making sure he doesn't get any blood on the towel. He uses toilet paper to dry off his arm, free of blood, and flushes the bloody toilet paper down the toilet.

Dean examines his arm, if he got these cuts from a hunt, he'd probably have to stitch some of them up. But the kit's out in the main area of the room. So, he can't risk it. There might be a slight scar later, but not as bad as the one of his shoulder. He was able to lie about that one, he'll be able to lie about this one too.

Dean quickly gets dressed and exits the bathroom. John is already sitting on a chair, laptop set up on the table, doing research. And this makes Dean relax. Everything is fine, everything is normal.

"You alright?" John asks, and Dean freezes. Did he just hear his father right?

"What?" Dean asks, as he takes a seat across from his father.

"I asked if you found anything?" John asks, as he looks up from the laptop.

"Oh..." Dean says, feeling kind of weird. He feels exhausted.

"You alright Dean, you look a little pale." John asks.

"I'm fine, just tired I guess. Long day." Dean says, forcing a smile.

"I know, but it's no time to let our emotions get the better of us. Jim was a good friend of mine as well, and I hate that he's gone. But we can't let that get in our way of getting the job done." John concludes, as he looks back at the laptop and continues to type.

Dean is shocked, his father thinks all this is about Jim? Is his father really that blind, or is Dean really that good? Dean doesn't have time to dwell on the answer as Sam enters the room. Everything Dean's thinking vanishes as he sees the distress on his baby brother's face.

"Sam?" Dean asks as he quickly gets up of his chair and makes his way over to his brother.

Sam holds a hand to his head, clearly in a little pain. And Dean quickly realizes what's going on.

"Tylenol?" Dean asks.

"Please." Sam says softly as he allows Dean to steer him towards a bed.

Sam collapses as Dean grabs him some tylenol and some water. Their father watches the scene unfold, confused.

"What's going on?" John asks.

Dean hates this. He can only imagine how piss this is going to make their father. But that's not important, not right now. His brother is in pain, and had to witness god knows what.

"Here." Dean says, ignoring his father as he hands Sam the tylenol and waters.

"Thanks." Sam says softly, as he takes the tylenol and forces them down with the water.

Sam is slightly shaking, and Dean wants to jump into the important questions. But he knows that's only going to set off more alarms with their father.

"Dean? Care to explain what the fuck is going on? What's wrong with your brother?" John demands.

"I'm fine dad. I just have a headache." Sam says softly.

"Sam." Dean starts, but not sure what to say after that.

"It's okay." Sam says, and Dean takes a step away from his brother.

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you." Sam says, addressing their father.

Dean paces the room as Sam explains the vision he saw, and what little he knows about the freaky power he got about a year ago. Dean sits down on the other bed as Sam continues, and just waits for their father to freak out. He wants to think he's paranoid, but once Sam is finished, John doesn't waste much time proving Dean right.

Sam continues to massage his temple. Waiting for the headache to go away.

"A vision?" John asks, trying to remain calm.

"Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling." Sam explains, yet again.

"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because...?" John asks, trying to remain calm and confused, despite the anger and frustration that is pushing at the surface.

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them." Sam explains, frustrated.

"It started out as nightmares, and then he started havin' them when he was awake." Dean explains as he gets off the bed and walks to the other side of the room. He needs to keep moving.

"Yeah. It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get." Sam concludes.

"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this?" John asks, clearly directed the question at Dean.

"We didn't know what it meant." Dean explains, not knowing what else to say. He has not idea what's happening to his brother, and it scares him.

"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me." John replies, the anger apparent in his voice.

Dean walks towards John. Everything is still so close to the surface. And unless he wants to breakdown, for everything that's happening to his brother, and everything that's happened to him, Dean has to latch onto his own anger. Even if that means pissing off their father.

"Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam called you when I was dying. Gettin' you on the phone...I've got a better chance of winning the lottery." Dean says, trying to keep himself from yelling.

John just stares at Dean, and Dean's afraid that his father is going to get very very angry. Sure, Dean knows that he won't get violent but his father can sure be scary when he's angry. And with everything else that's swirling around in Dean's head, he's not sure if he can handle that. So, he is surprised when John doesn't raise his voice. John's face actually softens.

"You're right. Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry." John says, softly.

Dean is shocked, and he doesn't know what to say. Did his father really just apologize?

Sam can tell that Dean is drowning in so many emotions. A lot has been happening lately, and he's not sure how well Dean is handling everything that's been added to his plate. So he knows he needs to be more present in this conversation before it gets out of control. So he does the one thing he knows will keep Dean balanced, keep the focus on the hunt.

"Look, guys, vision or no vision, the fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell that we went through." Sam says, not sure if added the family touch was the best idea at the moment.

"No, they're not. No one is, ever again." John replies.

Dean can see the same expression on both their faces, and it scares him a little. Sure, Dean wants this thing dead just as much as anyone else. But John and Sam seem to want it dead on a whole other level, and it scares Dean at how far they'll go to make sure this demon never hurts anyone ever again.

Before Dean can say anything Sam's cell phone rings. Sam goes through his jacket pockets until his finds his phone, and he answers.

"Hello?" Sam asks, having not taken the time to look at the caller ID.

"Sam?" Sam hears a female voice on the other end of the line, and doesn't recognize it right away. But there is something familiar about it.

"Who is this?" Sam asks.

"Think real hard. It'll come to you." Meg replies, a smile clearly heard in her voice.

"Meg." Sam says, shocked. "Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window."

Dean looks over at his father and then back to Sam. How can Meg be calling?

"Yeah, thanks to you. That really hurt my feelings, by the way." Meg says, fake sadness seeping through the phone.

"Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop." Sam states, unaware of the concerned glares he's receiving from both his father and brother.

"Let me speak to your dad." Meg says.

"My dad...I don't know where my dad is." Sam replies, as he looks up at his father.

John gets up off his chair, and approaches his son. Dean just stays in his spot, shocked.

"It's time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him, now." Meg demands.

Sam looks up at his father again, who is now standing in front of him. Sam is reluctant, but passes the phone to his father. He then looks over to Dean, who has an unreadable expression on his face. It looks almost as if he's zoned out, completely shut down. And this concerns Sam.

"This is John." John says into the phone.

Johns voice snaps both Dean and Sam out of their trances. Dean looks over to Sam, and sees that he's staring at him. So Dean walks over, and takes a seat on the opposite bed. He tries to ignore Sam's concerned stare as he listens to the one sided conversation that John is having with Meg.

"Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood." Meg says cruely.

Both Sam and Dean are shocked. They don't know what Meg said to their father, but it looks like he's going to cry.

"Still there, John boy?" Meg ask.

"I'm here." John says, as he turns his back on his sons. He starts to pace the room.

"Well, that was yesterday. Today, I'm in Lincoln...visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi." Meg continues.

John waits, hearing some movement on the other side of the phone. Dean slowly gets off the bed, waiting to see his father's face. He has a bad feeling about this.

"John, whatever they do, don't give..." Caleb shouts.

John cringes as Caleb's voice is cut off. He grips the phone, anger boiling in his veins. He can almost feel Dean's concerned stare on his back.

"Caleb?" John asks.

Dean looks over to Sam, both concerned. Sam worries that another death will push both his father and brother over the edge, but too different edges. Sam hasn't had the time to talk to Dean about Pastor Jim, and how all that's effecting him, but he can only assume that Dean's not holding up too well. And Sam's sure Dean wouldn't tell him how he's really feeling anyways. The last personal conversation they had was probably the most "chick-flick" he'll get from his brother for a while.

"Caleb...You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go." John demands, keeping his back to his boys.

Hearing his father's voice takes Sam's attention off his brother. He knows that if Caleb is killed, this is only going to fuel their father's rage.

"We know you have the Colt, John." Meg says, and John just wants to break the phone against the wall.

"I don't know what you're talking about." John replies.

"Oh. Okay. So, listen to this." Meg says, coldly.

The line goes silent, and John waits. Then he hears what sounds like Caleb's throat being cut. Caleb then starts gagging.

"Caleb? Caleb!" John shouts, hoping that his friend is dying.

"Dad?" Dean asks softly. Sam looks over to his brother, but their father ignores Dean's call.

"Can you hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying, now let's try this again." Meg's voice comes through the phone.

John walks over to the near by chair and collapses onto it. Both Sam and Dean can see the look of devastation on their father's face. Dean just shakes his head. Sam looks over to his brother with concern. They both have a pretty good idea what just happened, but they both deny the possibility. Both holding onto the hope that their old friend is alright.

"We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like...it has casualties." Meg continues.

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that?" John replies, anger clear in his voice.

"Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure. So, this is the thing...we're gonna keep doing what we're doing, and your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved...they'll all die unless you give us that gun." Meg says.

John sighs and risks a glance over to his boys. Dean is trying hard to keep the panic from showing on his face, but he has no idea what's happening. And Sam is looking over at Dean, with concern. This slightly confuses John, but he ignores it. Focuses on the voice on the other side of the cell phone.

"I'm waiting, Johnny. Better answer before the buzzer." Meg concludes.

"Okay." John replies quietly.

"Sorry? I didn't quite get that." Meg says.

"I said okay. I'll bring you the Colt." John replies, louder.

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there." Meg replies, clearly pleased.

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there." John says, getting up and walking towards his stuff.

"Meet me there at midnight tonight." Meg says.

"That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on a plane." John says, as he stops. Not knowing what to do.

"Oh. Then I guess your friends die, don't they." Meg says cruelly.

John sighs, clearly frustrated. He really wants to kill this bitch.

"If you do decide to make it, come alone." Meg says, before hanging up.

John starts putting his stuff away, what little he took out since getting into the room only less than an hour ago. He explains to his boys about what Meg told him, and what happened to Caleb.

Dean just stays on the bed, trying to process everything. How is it possible, losing two people he knew in such a short time. His brain can't wrap itself around that, and this...on top of everything else. This really sucks, terrible timing. If Sam wasn't worried about him enough as it is, this is definitely going to spark some more awkward forced conversations.

And what about his dad. He knows how upset all this is probably for him too. And he knows that if he's mind is set towards something, that neither himself, nor Sam, will be able to talk him out of it. And he's scared. Scared that his father is going to do something stupid, and get hurt, or worse, killed. And Dean really can't handle the death of his father right now. That will definitely break him.

Sam, is worried for both of them. He knows his father too, and he's worried the same as Dean. He's trying not to focus on the pain he's feeling over Caleb and Jim, because he knows he needs to be stronger than that. Because he knows that his brother, with everything else that's happened to him, won't be able to deal much longer. So Sam tries to keep everything light, and focused on the case, even though he wants to ask his brother if he's alright. But he knows that Dean wouldn't want him to bring attention to what he would call weakness, in front of their father.

"So, you think Meg is a demon?" Sam asks.

"Either that or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter." John says.

Sam and John are now seated across from each other at the table; while Dean is still seated on the bed. John is clearly too caught up in what's going on now, to notice anything different going on with his oldest son.

"What do we do?" Dean asks, finally finding his voice.

"I'm going to Lincoln." John states.

"What?" Dean asks. He really shouldn't be surprised, but he can't help it. He doesn't want his father to do this.

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die." John replies, coldly.

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight for Monica and her family. That gun is all we've got. You can't just hand it over." Sam says, knowing how much Dean would want their father to stick around. But also seeing their father's point. They can't keep losing people over this war.

"Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what is looks like." John replies.

"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean asks, confused. Wasn't exactly what he expected, but it's a distraction. Let's him be himself for a little while.

"Antique store." John says, with a smile.

"You're gonna hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" Dean asks. Really hoping his father's joking.

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference." John says, completely serious.

"Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?" Dean asks, the panic raising again. That distraction didn't last long enough. His father can't be serious.

"I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all." John replies, almost sadly.

"You mean for Dean and me." Sam says, hoping he's wrong. This will destroy Dean, and Sam knows it. And when John says nothing Sam almost wants to hit him. "You want us to stay here...and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home." John says, and he turns away from Sam and Dean. Tears run down Johns face.

Sam doesn't have to see his father's face to know that he's crying, which is something Sam rarely saw. But then he thought that about his brother too, and that's changed.

"I want Mary alive." John says sadly. He wipes the tears from his face as he turns back towards his boys.

Sam's heart nearly breaks. The pain so raw in his father's voice, even after 22 years. He almost wants to cry. Cry for everything that they've all been through. Everything they've all lost.

Dean is just as surprised to see his father like this. His father, who drilled into his head that emotions are weakness that could cost you the job.

"I just...just want this over." John concludes.

Dean feels the tears welling up in his eyes as he looks over at his brother. Sam also has tears in his eyes. Neither brother is able to speak for a long time. Not sure there is anything to say to convince their father not to do this. Because in all honesty, they don't want to lose anymore of their friends either; but they also can't allow this demon to destroy another family.

So Dean volunteers to go by an antic shop, as Sam gets John's weapons ready. Sam wants to protest, he feels like his brother has been avoided him lately. But he can't argue in front of his father, because he knows how much that would upset Dean. So he just has to wait.

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Sam helps his father pack up his truck. They drive silently to where they agreed to meet Dean. So now they are parked on the side of a deserted road, and cleaning John's weapons as they wait for Dean. There are so many things Sam wants to say, but he can't think of a thing.

Dean, however, is having a worst time. He needed this time alone. It didn't take him long at all to find a gun that looked close enough to the colt at a local antic store. But on the way to meet up with his brother and father, Dean felt sick. He pulls over his car to the side of the road.

Dean thought the last few months were rough. He thought he's bee suffocating under the weight of fearing for their father, not knowing if his father was safe. But then things just kept piling up, all the secrets, his brother's constant poking, all the hunts. But he would trade all that back if he could erase the last couple days. Erase the tension between him and his brother, erase his stupid confession, erase losing people he cared about, and erase having his father leave again.

He feels like his thoughts are trying to blow his brain out, too much going on. He also feels the panic started to grow, and Dean forces himself to take deep breaths. These panic attacks are having the worst timing ever. How can he explain taking so long, _oh I just had a panic attack and passed out on the side of the road, no biggy Dad._

"FFFFUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" Dean shouts at the top of his lungs, and then slams his head into the steering wheel.

Dean knows he has to pull it together, and now, before his father and brother start to wonder. So he takes another deep breath, and pushes everything aside. Throwing up all those walls, extras even, to keep everything ignored. This really isn't the time.

So when Dean gets to the meet point, he finds his father and Sam looking at weapons. Completely silent. Which, should be a good thing, at least they aren't yelling at each other. But he knows that Sam must have so many things on his mind, and if he's not getting it out on his father, than that mean's he's going to be forced into another awkward conversation.

Dean gets out of the car, and grabs something from the passenger seat. He then makes his way towards his father and Sam.

"Did you get it?" John asks as he notices Dean approach.

Sam can see the slight tension in Dean's shoulders as he approaches. But he knows better to ask Dean about it in front of their father. So he watches silently as Dean passes something wrapped in paper to their father.

"You know this is a trap, don't you? That's why Meg wants you to come alone." Dean replies. He looks over at Sam, knowing the look in his eye. He just gives him a glare that he hopes gets the message across to his brother, to keep his mouth shut.

"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded...holy water, Mandaic amulets..." John would list off everything in his trunk but Dean cuts him off.

"Dad..." Dean starts, not really knowing what to say. Too many thoughts and fears trying to push their way through his walls.

"What?" John asks.

"Promise me something." Dean says, almost pleadingly. Dean wants to curse himself. He doesn't want to come off as weak, but he needs to say something.

"What's that?" John asks.

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead." Dean says, trying to keep his emotions in check.

John can tell his son is struggling, but this is no time to stop and give time for emotions to destroy them. They all need to stay focused. He hates that he acts more like a drill sergeant than a father, but it's the only way he knows to survive.

"Same goes for you. All right, listen to me." John says, as he takes the real Colt out of his jacket pocket. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of 'em left. Without 'em, this fun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir." Sam states.

"I've been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here, and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight. You finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?" John states, keeping his tone strong.

Sam and Dean nod. And after a moment, John hands the real Colt to Dean. Dean puts the Colt in his pocket.

"We'll see you soon, Dad." Sam says confidently.

John nods and smiles. He's not worried, but there's always that chance something couldn't go wrong, which any of them. Anything could happen to his boys. But they all need to believe that nothing bad is going to happen.

"I'll see you later." John says before walking towards his truck.

Sam and Dean remain quiet as they watch their father get into his truck and drive away. They both stand there in silence, on the side of the road. Neither one of them knowing what to say.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Right?" Sam says, not really sure who he's trying to convince.

"Yeah." Dean says softly.

Dean just shakes his head, _this is ridiculous_. He should be more worried about messing up his end of this thing, getting someone killed. His father knows how to handle himself, knows how to lock away his emotions and do his job.

"Well, I guess...uh...we should get going then. Do you need to get anything or do anything at the motel? Or should we just go straight to Monica's house?" Dean asks as he starts to walk towards the car. Sam follows.

"I'm good. Might as well just head to Monica's." Sam says, knowing that his brother is stalling.

They get into the car. And Sam thinks he should probably leave everything alone. He knows how is brother is before a case, or in general. Emotions are a liability, they can cloud your judgement, and cause failure. Or at least that's what their father drilled into their heads, and it seems Dean's a little strong on that belief than Sam.

They drive to Monica's place in completely silence, as Sam goes over so many things he wants to say to his brother. It's still daylight, the sun just started to set. So he knows they have lots of time to kill. So as Dean parks the car across the street, Sam takes a deep breath. Knowing against his better judgment, that this is a crappy thing to do to his brother, after everything.

"You okay?" Sam asks.

"What?" Dean turns to face his brother.

"I asked if you were okay?" Sam repeats, thinking he should have just stopped before he even started.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Dean asks. Hoping, and praying that Sam shuts up. Or at least limits the conversation to things he can handle.

"I don't want to make this one of those conversations that you would deem awkward or uncomfortable. That's not what I want to do here." Sam says, still not sure what to say.

"Okay, so we'll setting for confusing then." Dean says with a smirk.

Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. He knows what his brother is trying to do, and even though on most occasions it pisses Sam off, he now finds it actually relaxing. It doesn't however slow Sam down much.

"I'm trying here Dean. And this isn't about your stuff. I'm giving you your space on that, because I know the conversation we had a couple nights ago was hard for me. Man, it was even hard for me. But this...man, anything could happen to Dad. Anything could happen to us. That's not even to bring up Caleb, and Pastor Jim, because I know you probably won't admit that it hurts." Sam says in a rush, needed to get everything out before he changes his mind.

"What do you want me to say Sam? Dad's going to be fine, it's only Meg. And...Sam, I really...I just want to focus on this job. Because it's...a big deal. And we can't fuck this up because there are a lot of lives at risk. So if this pisses you off, if ignoring this stuff makes you upset, well...I don't care. I'm not going to have this conversation with you, because it's only going to mess with my head and I can't afford to fuck this up." Dean states coldly. He then looks out the window, now staring at Monica's house. Hoping to end the conversation.

"And ignoring the problem until you can't function anymore, no, that could never cause a problem." Sam snaps.

"I'm fine, right now, I am focused but I...fuck Sam. Please, we can have a long-ass chick flick moment once this family is safe, the demon is dead, and Dad is back. But until then..." Dean says, slowly getting angry.

Sam takes a deep breath and settles into his seat. "Fine." He mumbles.

The car goes silent for a long time. The sun now gone, and the boys sit in the dark. Sam can't handle the silence, he needs to say something, anything.

"This is weird." Sam says, hoping his chosen topic of conversation isn't too "chick-flick" for Dean.

"What?" Dean asks. He was so focused on staying focused, watching the house, that he almost forgot about his brother.

"After all these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real." Sam says, kind of distant.

Dean looks over at his brother. He feels the same way, but Sam always had a easier time expression his thoughts out-loud. So maybe Sam deserves to get some things off his chest. The last year hasn't been a walk in the park for him either, so why is he being such a dick.

"We just got to keep our heads and do our job like always." Dean replies.

"Yeah, but this isn't like always." Sam says, surprised that Dean didn't shut the conversation down.

"True." Dean mumbles, and turns to look at the house again.

"Dean...uh..." Sam doesn't know how to say this, but he wants his brother to stick with the conversation.

Dean turns to look at Sam, and that's when Sam continues. "I wanna thank you."

"For what?" Dean asks, confused.

"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I couldn't count on anymore, I could always count on you. And now...I don't know, I just wanted to let you know...just in case." Sam says, knowing that he really shouldn't say that. He knows how much losing someone else would destroy his brother right now. But at the same time...if he doesn't say it and something happened...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kiddin' me?" Dean says, getting upset.

"What?" Sam asks, not expecting this from his brother.

"Don't say, "Just in case something happens to you", I don't wanna hear that feakin' speech, man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody...except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't gettin' any older than tonight, you undersand me?" Dean asks.

Sam is surprised by the determination and fire in his brother's eyes, it's something that he's missed. He hasn't seen this side of his brother in so long. So all Sam can do is nod, and Dean goes back to looking at the house.

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Dean knew his brother was pissed, but luckily he didn't say a word on the drive back to the motel. All Dean cares about is that they are safe, and that family is safe. Sure, the Demon's still alive, but it's better than the alternative. There was no way Dean was going to let his baby brother sacrifice himself for this thing, not matter how much he wanted to at the time.

For Sam, it's like all intelligence went out the window. He knew that if he died it would destroy his brother. But he was so determined to end this that he completely forgot about everything his brother is going through. All he could think about was his own pain, the pain of never knowing his mother and the pain of losing the love of his life. Even after everything was done, Sam couldn't get his head right, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he failed. That this isn't over. So he says nothing.

Now the boys are back at their motel room, and Dean is feeling a familiar panic rising in his chest. The last time he felt this, he cut open his shoulder, but he was alone, so he shouldn't have that problem now.

Sam sits on the bed, still clearly pissed off. Dean passes the room, trying John's number again.

"Come on, Dad. Answer your phone, damn it." Dean shouts, as he hangs up the phone.

Dean stops pacing to face his brother. "Something's wrong."

Dean hates the weakness in his voice, but he can't shake the bad feeling he has. But again, Sam just says nothing. Too pissed off. He doesn't want to say something he'll only regret. It's been getting so good with his brother, building the trust, and breaking down the walls. He doesn't want to mess all that up.

"You hear me? Something's happened." Dean says, trying to sound strong.

"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all this." Sam says, holding back the rage. He's been ignoring his issues for so long, because he wanted to be there for his brother. But now...he couldn't do it anymore. This was too much for him, he needs to vent.

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life." Dean exclaims, not wanting to have this conversation. He's seen this attitude too much from their father, and he never wanted to see it in his brother. He wants this to be over too, but there was something stronger pushing at his father and brother.

"You don't know that." Sam says, trying hard to suppress the many emotions that are running through his body.

"So, what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?" Dean asks, even though he's pretty sure he already knows the answer. It makes him sick.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am." Sam states as he stands up off the bed. He knows he's not completely thinking clearly, but he really doesn't care at this point.

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen...not as long as I'm around." Dean replies, standing his ground. He knows this conversation is going to get ugly, fast.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about." Sam says, voice getting louder. Emotions seeping through.

"Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay? But it's not worth dying over." Dean says, feeling his walls start to crack and break.

"What?" Sam asks, confused.

"I mean it. If huntin' this demon means you getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing." Dean states. He's never admit this out-loud, he's always just fallen in line. Knowing how important this was to his father. But now that his little brother has become just as obsessed, he can't stay silent anymore.

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom." Sam states, surprisingly calm.

Dean takes a breath, knowing these words aren't the right ones for this moment. It wasn't too long ago this conversation seemed to be reversed. But he continues anyways.

"You said yourself once...that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never comin' back." Dean says softly, getting himself prepare.

Sam doesn't waste anytime, barely thinking before he moves. He grabs Dean by the shirt and pins him up against the wall. His anger no longer in place.

"Don't you say that! Don't you...not after all this, don't you say that!" Sam shouts. Tears welling up in his eyes.

"Sammy, look...the three of us...that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man." Dean says, his voice filled with emotions.

Sam tries so hard to keep his tears at bay. This is exactly how he's wanted his brother to be for so long, open and honest. But it couldn't be at the worst time. Sam feels like he's drowning in pain, grief and anger. He wants to have this conversation so badly, but at the same time he doesn't, and it's killing him. So he gently lets go of his brother, but he doesn't back off.

"Without you and Dad..." Dean continues, tears welling up in his eyes.

Sam turns away from Dean, unable to continue. The conversation really does feel reversed, on both parts. Sam wants to change the subject so badly, because he feels like if he doesn't, he'll breakdown. He somewhat feels like a hypocrite, but he doesn't care in this moment.

"Dad..." Sam says softly.

Both brothers remain silent for a moment. Both trying so hard to pull their emotions back. Sam wipes a hand over his face before turning to face his brother. Dean, however, hasn't moved at all. He's still up against the wall, tears in his eyes that he refuses to let fall.

"He should have called by now. Try him again." Sam says, with determination.

Dean clears his throat, and wipes a hand over his face. Sam's heart feels like it's dying, this is something he's wanted for so long. A talk with his older brother. But now that the opportunity has presented itself, he can't run fast enough. So he lets Dean build up his walls again, hoping that soon they can be in a better situation to have this conversation again.

Dean opens his phone again, and dials. Sam notices the moment his brother's face changes. Dean's face almost pales, and his eyes widen at the voice on the other end of the phone. So Sam knows something really bad happened.

"You boys really screwed up this time." Meg voice comes through the phone.

"Where is he?" Dean states, holding onto his rage at Meg.

"You're never gonna see your father again." Meg says, before hanging up.

Dean just stands there, shocked. And then the phone spills out of his hand, and falls to the floor.

"Dean?" Sam asks, not wanted to panic. Knowing that at least one of them has to be strong at all times. They both can't freak out. And by the look on Dean's face, he's either about to get very pissed off, or have a panic attack. Sam's not sure what he'd prefer.

Dean's breathing starts to become fast and heavy, and Sam knows they are nearly a panic attack. Sam hates seeing his brother like this. He never thought he'd see his brother have a panic attack, but that was then...

"They've got Dad." Dean forces out, as he collapses onto the bed behind him. Tears well up in his eyes, and he tries to focus on the rage inside him, instead of the pain and panic.

"Meg?" Sam asks, trying not to bring attention to the obvious. Praying his brother will pull through.

Dean can only nod. He's having a hard time breathing, but he's focusing on grabbing all his walls and forcing them back in place as quickly as possible. He needs to be in big brother, soldier mode.

"What'd she say?" Sam asks.

"I just told you, Sammy." Dean says, pulling on his rage. He wipes his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

"Okay...okay." Dean gets up, frantic. He grabs the Colt from the table and puts it in his back pocket. He them moves to the bed and grabs his duffel bag. Moving frantically, trying to stay focus.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Sam asks. Maybe they do need a talk. He can't have his brother frantic, and panicked.

"We gotta go." Dean says quickly.

"Why?" Sam asks. They can't run into something like this, completely unprepared. Completely reckless.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right? It knows we've got the Colt, it's got Dad, it's probably comin' for us next." Dean says quickly, as he pulls on his coat.

"Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come." Sam says, still a little angry.

"Listen, though guy, we're not ready! We don't know how many of 'em are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving. Now." Dean states, he then makes his way to the door.

"Dean, stop. You need to stop. This isn't going to help anybody either okay. We both need to stop." Sam says, trying to calm himself down as well.

"We don't have time for this crap Sam. So grab your shit, we're going." Dean yells, as he pulls away from his brother. He doesn't wait for a response, as he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Sam takes a deep breath. He quickly grabs his stuff and follows his brother out of the motel.

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Dean is speeding down the highway, no idea where he's going. He can't think. Where is he going? What is he doing? So, his panic starts to rise again. He can't breath. He starts to shake.

Sam notices that the car is slowly down slightly, which snaps his out of his own thoughts. He looks over at his brother. Dean looks a little pale, and is slightly shaking.

"Dean?" Sam ask cautiously.

They've been driving non-stop for the past five hours, neither of them saying a word. Neither of them bringing up the fact that they have no idea where they are going. Dean just wanted to get as far away from Salvation as possible.

"Dean?" Sam asks again, a little louder.

"What?" Dean says, briefly looking over at his brother before focusing on the road again. He knows he's screwed. The last fives hours, he's spent that whole time in his head. He's surprised he's survived this long.

"I think you should pull over, let me drive for a bit." Sam says, not wanting to upset his brother. Needed everything to remain calm. At least while they are still driving.

"I'm fine." Dean says, emotionless.

"You're not fine. Please, just...pull over the car." Sam replies. He's never seen his brother like this. Sure, it wasn't a pleasant sight, the look on his brother's face as he re-counted the day spent in foster car. But this, this was something different. Or everything put together.

"Can't stop. Need to find Dad. Nothing else matters until we find Dad." Dean says, still detached. Tears start to build in his eyes, but he doesn't even realize it. Sam does though.

"I want to find Dad too, alright. And I'm sorry for being...we'll...I'm just sorry. But do you even know where we're going?" Sam asks.

"We'll go to Lincoln. Last place we know Dad was." Dean says, not even knowing where they are now.

"Dean, first off, do you really think the demons would keep him there if he's still alive..." Sam starts, getting cut off by Dean.

"Shut up Sam, he's not dead. He can't be dead." Dean says, feeling everything crumple away.

"I know, okay. I'm just...we're not even heading in the right direction to hit Lincoln." Sam says sharply. Not wanted to be pushy with his brother at this moment, but he needs his brother to stop driving.

"Fuck." Dean curses under his breath.

Dean slowly pulls the car over to the side of the highway. Dean then rests his head on the steering wheel, trying to his from his brother. The highway is pretty dead, it being so early in the morning. The sun should be coming up soon, that's how long they've been driving.

Sam just looks at his brother, waiting for him to say something or do something. His brother looks like he's going to be sick, or scream at him, or breakdown.

"I'm sorry." Dean mumbles, face still resting on the steering wheel.

"Dean, I didn't...you don't have to apologize. Let's just, make a plan before we start driving all over the place. And I really think I should drive for a bit, you look..." Sam trails off, not really sure how to describe how his brother looks.

"I look like what?" Dean asks, raising his head off the steering wheel.

Alright, looks like we're going with anger. Sam's not sure this is what he wants, but prepares himself for the conversation turn non-the-less.

"Dean, we've been up since dawn, stressing over everything. Now Dad's...I donno. And you've been driving for almost five hours now, non-stop. It's going to be day light soon, and I don't...we're not going to help anyone like this." Sam says, calmly.

"Fuck you Sam. I know what I'm doing. I can do this. I'm not some broken little soldier, who's too emotionally strung out to do it's job." Dean snaps.

"I didn't say that. What are you talking about? I never said that." Sam says quickly, trying to defend himself.

"You don't have to." Dean snarls as he gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

"Great." Sam says as he too gets out of the car.

Dean walks around the car, determined to stop talking. He's upset, and knows he can only hang onto the anger for so long. He doesn't want to yell at his brother, not now, but it's better than the alternative. So fine, he'll let his brother drive.

Sam can tell that Dean just wants to shut everything out, but Sam can't let that happen. Even if this conversation becomes physically painful, Sam is going to push through. Screw pulling back and giving his brother space. It's not helping right now.

"Here." Dean gives Sam the keys. "Let's go."

Sam just stays still, leaning against the passenger door. He thought it would be harder to get the keys from his brother, but, apparently Dean just wants to hit the road as quickly as possible.

"Move Sam." Dean snaps. If Sam doesn't move soon, Dean's going to freak.

"And where are we going? What are we doing?" Sam asks calmly.

"I don't care, you're driving now anyways. You figure it out." Dean replies, the anger only rising, trying to cover up all the other emotions that Dean doesn't want to let out.

"Come Dean, this is ridiculous." Sam states.

"Ridiculous. Well that's just fantastic Sam, and so very helpful. Now move your ass, before I move it for you." Dean says, getting closer to his brother.

"You're really going to hit me? Would that make you feel better? Because if that's what it takes to get you to just calm down and think rationally then, go ahead. Hit me." Sam says, keeping his cool.

"What? I'm not going to fucking hit you." Dean says, feeling the anger slowly vacating his body. But he fights so hard to hold onto it.

"Why not?" Sam replies coldly. He knows it's a bad thing, to push his brother's buttons like this. But Sam can't think of any other way.

"Move Sam." Dean yells, as he grabs onto his brother in an attempt to pull him out of the way. If he can only get the passenger door clear, he can get into the car, and this would be over.

"No." Sam says, as he stands his ground.

Dean's strength seems to be tied to his emotions right now, so he can't pull his brother away from the car. Dean feels like he's spinning out of control, so he turns away from his brother.

"Fuck!" Dean curses under his breath.

Sam barely hears his brother, but he can see the shaking starting in his body.

"Dean..." Sam doens't know what to say, but he knows he doesn't want his brother to experience another panic attack. He's never had one himself, but he can't imagine them being pleasant.

"FFUUUUUUUCK!!" Dean yells at the top of his lungs.

Sam is shocked, he doesn't know what to say. He's not sure if this is a good, or a bad thing. He have no idea what he's brother is going to look like when he turns around, if he's going to be angry or broken.

"Dean...?" Sam starts again, but still not sure what else to say.

"What do you want Sammy." Dean says brokenly, his back still to his brother.

"I want us to have a plan at least, something. And I don't want you to run yourself into the ground. I know you're not going to talk about it, so saying that I want you to talk to me seems like a pointless thing to say at the moment, but it's still the truth. I'm still here Dean, I haven't left. Can't you see that. There's nothing you can say that's going to get me to leave you here on the side of the road." Sam says, feeling his eyes tear up. He's felt his emotions being put through a roller-coaster lately as well, and he really doesn't want to cry; just like he knows his brother doesn't want to have this conversation. But Sam's willing to rip out his emotions if it means helping out his brother.

Dean slowly turns to face his brother, tears filling his eyes, desperately pushing for freedom. Dean really doesn't want to cry, but it seems like his brother has other plans. He wants to be mad at him, but the look on Sam's face nearly pushes him over that edge.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asks, the slight movement his his face allowing some tears to make it down his face.

"Anything. I hate this. So much, you have no idea. I want to find Dad too, I do. And I'm so sick of everything we've lost. But you...god, you know I'd talk to you. I do, even when I know I shouldn't because you'd tease me about making a girly moment. But damn it Dean, why can't you just....anything!" Sam says, practically yelling his last word.

Dean wipes away the tears. His hands are shaking and he feels like he could break into sobs any second. Which he really doesn't want to do. He can't lock himself in the bathroom this time. His brother is really forcing this conversation, and Dean feels like he can't breath.

"Come on Sammy, don't do this to me. Not now. Let's just hit the road." Dean says, desperately trying to hold his emotions in.

"And where are we going? We can't do this Dean. You need to get this out. Whatever it is that's...I don't know what to do anymore Dean. I'm not asking you to tell me everything I've missed when I was too young to remember them, or when I was away at Stanford. And I'm definitely not asking you to talk about the...you know, because I know that's too soon. Especially after the conversation we had a couple nights ago." Sam says softly.

"Why are you doing this to me? Is this fun for you? See how many times you ca get your big brother to break down into tears? Is it?" Dean asks, trying to bring the anger back.

"No, of course not. I hate this, all of this. I hate the silence, and I these conversations. I'm sure you think other wise. But I hate it all. I hate this life. I hate what we've lost, and I'm not only talking about the people." Sam says as he wipes the tears off his face.

If Dean were himself, or if he were in the state to make jokes, he would totally rag on the fact that two big guys are on the side of the road, crying like little girls. But Dean doesn't say anything of the sort, which make Sam want to cry that much harder.

"I can't Sam. I can't say what you want me to say. It's not going to help. It's not going to suddenly make me think clearer. It's only going to make everything harder. We need to find dad." Dean says, feeling like he's losing the batter.

"Okay, then where are we going? What are we going to do? If you can't do this, fine, but we need a plan. We can't just go in like this. If you think you can pull yourself together, than fine, do it." Sam says, a little too sharply.

"Screw you Sam. You think I like this. You think I like being like this. And there's no one to blame but me. I'm so fucking stupid." Dean says, as more tears run down his face. He turns his back to his brother again.

"Dean, you really got to stop this. I wasn't there, I have no idea what happened to you. And I'm sure what's happening right now with Dad really isn't helping any. But I know you, and I know it wasn't your fault despite what you're telling yourself. You're not going to be any help to anyone if you keep all this bottle up, if you let it destroy you." Sam states, keeping his cool. Knowing he's been a little harsh, and a little forcefully, but it's what needs to be done.

Dean is shaking, tears running down his face. He feels the panic rising but he refuses to let it beat him tonight. He needs to focus. Needs to find his dad. But all he can focus on are bad feelings and bad memories. Feelings of failure. What if he can't get his dad back? What if he gets him killed?

"Sammy...please, we need...we gotta find dad." Dean chokes, barely getting the words out through the tears.

Sam feels the tears trying to push through Sam's defenses. Sure, Sam isn't as opposed to showing his emotions as Dean is. But he can't cry now.

"Dean, please, just...would you just look at him. Turning your back on me isn't going to change anything. We're in the middle of nowhere, there's no running away this time." Sam says.

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way." Dean snaps, as he furiously tries to wipe away his tears but they just keep falling.

"I didn't do this to punish you Dean." Sam says sadly.

Dean just lets out a laugh, one that's not filled with any joy or amusement. Just filled with pain. He takes a deep breath before turning to face his brother.

It hurts to see his brother like that. Tears running down his face. Sam just wants to pull him into a nice big hug, and takes all his pain away. If that would only work. So even though it hurts Sam, he continues on.

"Look, we just need help. We can't do this on our own." Sam says sadly.

"You can just drop me off somewhere, I don't mind. I agree it's for the best. I'll probably just get everyone killed." Dean says sadly, avoiding Sam's stare.

"What are you talking about Dean? I'm not leaving you anywhere." Sam replies, confused and hurt.

"I'm a liability Sam. I'm too...messed up. I can't do this." Dean says, getting angry. The tears continuing down his face, only making him more ashamed and upset.

"No, Dean, stop. You're no a liability. Emotions aren't a weakness, alright. You're not a better person when you shut the world out and build up concrete walls." Sam states.

Dean just shakes his head and turns away from his brother again, not knowing what to do. So Dean starts walking away, down the highway, away from his car and his brother.

"Dean! Stop!" Sam yells as he runs up to his brother and grabs him by the shoulder.

"Fuck off!" Dean shouts, as he turns around, pushing his brother away.

Sam puts his hands up, like a surrender stance. He doesn't want his brother to feel too locked in. And Sam is surprised when Dean doesn't continue his walk down the highway. But the anger in his brother's eyes stay in place.

"Fuck you! I...I was fine. I had a system. I had a way of dealing with the fucked up things we see every day. A way of dealing with everybody we lose. Everyone that we witness getting sucked into this crap of a world, that they should never have to know about. But you...you're just tearing it down. Why?" Dean yells.

"Because it's destructive Dean. It's not a way of dealing with anything. It's only ignoring the problem Dean, I'm sorry." Sam replies, sadly.

"And what's my problem, huh Sam? What's my damage? Come on, Sam. This is the conversation you've been dying for. Come on!" Dean shouts as he pushes his brother.

Sam stumbles backwards, but keeps his footing. If this is what his brother needs, then fine.

"Tell me! What the fuck is wrong with me!" Dean continues to yell, as he pushes his brother again.

This time, however, Sam grabs onto Dean's wrists. Knowing it's a bad idea to constrict his brother. But he really doesn't want to end up on his ass.

"Let me go. Fuck off! Let me go!" Dean screams as he pulls away from his brother.

From the force of the pull, Dean stumbles backwards and loses his footing. Dean falls to the ground. Sam moves quickly, and rushes to his brother's side.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks.

"No I'm not okay, fuck!" Dean says, angry, as he pushes himself off the ground.

"Are you hurt?" Sam asks. Hoping that Dean's response wasn't just a confession about scrapping a knee or something.

"I didn't hurt myself, I'm fine." Dean says as he wipes the dirt from his pants.

"I'm sorry." Sam says softly.

"Don't fucking say that to me Sam, you didn't do anything. I did. I let myself get in this fucked up situation." Dean says, voice still filled with anger.

Sam knows the anger is only a front, trying to mask all the other emotions that are trying to push through. He knows how much his brother hates that he's crying right now. Even though the tears have slowed down since the fall.

"I'm the one that couldn't fight them off! I'm the one that let them rape me!" Dean shouts.

Both brother just stand there, and Sam sees it. Dean's face instantly falls, paling, as the anger rushes out of his body and is replaced by something else. Grief, pain, humility, and so many other negative emotions. This is the first time he's admitted what happened to him out loud. And he didn't mean to, he was just so angry. It just slipped out.

"Dean..." Sam takes a step towards his brother, but Dean takes a step back.

"Don't." Dean warns, his voice no longer strong and filled with rage.

Dean feels all the memories rush him at once. All the laughter, the pain, the hands. He never allowed himself to see all that happened that night. He never could make it through without getting sick. But now, part that he thought he erased from his memory, forced their way to the surface. The other two, larger men getting there turn. The pain, and the blood in places Dean never wanted to experience it in.

Dean begins to shake, and his breathing starts to come out in short painful gasps. Tears start pouring down his face, but he still suppresses the need to fulling breakdown. He's clinging so desperately to it. He can't breakdown, not now. Not in front of his little brother.

"Fuck. Sammy...please." Dean says, as he collapses onto the grass below.

He feels like he's going to be sick, but he forces the nausea away. His vision is blurred due to the tears, but he knows his brother is now knelt next to him.

"Dean, it's going to alright. Um...I don't...I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry. I...no one should be forced to go through that." Sam says softly, tears running down his face as well.

Dean bends over, putting his head to his knees, and covering his face also with his hands. The shaking only gets worse as he continues to deny the sobs that are pressing against his chest. He almost can't feel Sam's hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles.

"You know I'm here, if you want to talk about it. But if you still need time, I completely understand. I'm sorry I pushed you tonight. I just didn't want you running yourself into the ground. Okay?" Sam says as he wipes the tears from his face.

Sam doesn't know if his brother heard him, but after a moment Dean nods. Dean keeps his face down though for the next few minutes. Trying to get his emotions back behind those walls.

"Hey, why don't we head over to Bobby's? Maybe he's heard something. Or at least can help us out a bit." Sam says, as he continues to rub circles on his brother's back. He knows he should ask more, about the looming topic. But their father is still missing. And he knows the best thing for Dean right now is to stay focused.

Dean slowly pulls himself off the ground, shrugging off his brother's touch. Sam follows.

"Sorry." Dean mumbles as he wipes the tears from his face. His eyes are bloodshot from all the crying. And his voice is hoarse from trying so hard to be completely break.

"It's okay." Sam says, giving his brother a reassuring smile. But he knows Dean can see the underlining concern.

"Bobby is probably our best bet right now. Don't know if he'll be too happy to see me though." Dean says with a laugh. Mentally thanking his brother for the subject change.

"Why?" Sam asks. Hating that these conversations always need an escape route. But also knowing that his brother can't get everything out at once. Small steps.

"You know Dad. They kind of had a disagreement. We got his help on a hunt while you were at stanford. And Dad...well, let's just say it got so bad that Bobby actually threatened Dad with a shotgun." Dean says, with a smile. Still wiping the tears from his face.

Sam smiles. Their father always had a way with people.

"Alright. Bobby's is a good couple hours from here. If you think you can do it. We should be able to make it there by lunch time." Dean says as he walks towards the car.

They both get into the car. Sam getting into the drivers seat.

"Dean. You did hear me back there right? That I'm not going anyway. That I'm still here, if you ever want to talk about it." Sam says, holding the keys in his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But give me a couple days alright. These things are draining. I think I'm need a nap." Dean replies, as he gets comfy in his seat.

Sam smiles and shakes his head. Sure, it may all be an act. But Sam really doesn't mind getting glimpses of the real Dean every now and then.

"Alright, you sleep. I'll wake you when we get close to Bobby's." Sam replies.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean says, as he closes his eyes.

Dean knows that there's no real hope for any rest right now. He'll probably spend the whole trip just staring out the window. He is tired, but his mind still likes to plague him with nightmares. And with the additional moments he got only kodak fragments of, he doesn't want to allow his brain the opportunity to replay the entire event. Especially not in the car with his brother.

So Dean turns to his side, opening his eyes to stare at the trees whipping by the car. Sure, sleep would really help, get rested, think clearly. But a nightmare filled nap would only make things worst.

They need to find their dad. Alive.

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Sorry for the delay. Hope to get the next chapter up Monday, if not Tuesday. But worried about tackling Devil's Trap. Going to be a bigger emotional roller-coaster than this one.

Hoped you all enjoyed the chapter. It was tough to write. **REVIEWS** are highly appreciated. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

CAB60:

Thanks for the review. Glad your liking the story. Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story, and this chapter. Not going to be very nice to Dean for the next few chapters, things are definitely going to get much worst before they get better.

And thanks to moira4eku, J-09, rholou for your kind reviews.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 11. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 11 - DEVIL'S TRAP**

The trip to Bobby's was long and exhausting. The ride was completely silent. Sam wanted to believe that his brother slept, but he highly doubted it. He remember how self-conscience he was when he would have nightmares. And he's not sure if Dean knows or not, but Sam did notice the change in his brother a long time ago. Going out a lot, rarely sleeping when Sam was awake. Dean probably didn't want Sam to witness him having a nightmare, ask more questions.

For Dean, the trip to Bobby's was a struggle. He was so exhausted, he really could have used the rest. And it took every strength Dean had to stay awake. He couldn't sleep because he knew he'd have nightmares. And he can barely handle the nightmares on his own, they'd always lead to alcohol or a knife. But with Sam around, those coping mechanisms were out of the questions; Sam witnessing a nightmare right now would be a very very bad thing.

Sam finally pulls up to Bobby's. It's been years since he's been here, but it's exactly how he remembers. Sam is rushed with so many memories of growing up on the road. He had good memories of Bobby, playing in his car junkyard. Hide and seek was especially fun as a child. So many places to hide, it pissed Dean off though.

Sam looks over at his brother, who is still laying on his side. Sam slowly, and gently places a hand on his brother's should.

"Dean?" Sam says softly. "We're here."

"I know." Dean replies, not moving. He feels Sam remove his hand from his shoulder, and he relaxes.

"Did you get any sleep." Sam asks.

Dean rolls onto his back and rubs his eyes. Trying to show that he slept, but not sure if his brother will buy it.

"Fell a sleep the second you started driving. Definitely needed the nap." Dean says, plastering on a smile.

"Okay, so I guess I'll pretend you're telling truth because I'm too tired to argue with you. Hope Bobby's up." Sam says as he pulls the key out of the ignition, getting ready to get out of the car.

"Bobby's just as bad as Dad. Hope he has coffee." Dean says, glad they are both too tired to care at the moment. Because he'd probably just crack and tell his brother everything at this point, he's brain feels like mush. Can't remember the last time he slept.

Dean and Sam slowly make their way to Bobby's front door. They are both exhausted, but Sam is awake enough to still be worried about his brother.

They knock on the door, and after a moment Bobby steps out of the house to look at the two boys in front of him. His expression is unreadable at first, which makes Dean a little nervous. He doesn't want Bobby to still be upset, they need his help. But quickly a smile spreads over the man's face.

"What the hell are you boys doing here?" Bobby says, opening the door, inviting them inside.

"We need you're help Bobby." Sam replies as they follow Bobby into the house.

"I've heard about some of the mess you boys have been getting yourselves into." Bobby says as they make their way into Bobby's living room. He turns to face the boys again, taking a closer look at them.

"You both look dead on your feet." Bobby says, noticing the exhausted look on both the boys.

"It's been a long couple of days Bobby." Sam says, looking over at his brother for a moment. "We could really use some coffee."

"Looks like you boys could use some sleep." Bobby replies, focusing more on Dean. He can tell something bad has happened, but doesn't let his face show any of his concern.

"No!" Dean snaps, and realizes that both Sam and Bobby are looking at him. He's feels stupid, Sure sleep would be awesome right about now. But there's no time.

"I'm sorry. There's no time Bobby. We really need your help." Dean says, quietly. He stares at the floor, ashamed of his outburst.

Sam feels more awake now, concern for his brother taking over. Maybe Dean really doesn't want to sleep, or can't. Sam is glad they are off the road and at a friends. Bobby, Caleb, and Pastor Jim were always kind to the both of them. And even though Sam knows it would be too much for Dean to confide in somebody else, he knows that it might be nice to be around Bobby for a little while. Relax.

"Sam, I have loads of books as you might recall, and I'm guessing your still the better wiz at the research. Those four years at Stanford probably didn't help in the right direction thought. So why don't you go ahead, if you know what you're looking for. Dean, why don't you come with me. I'll make you boys some coffee, and you can explain what you boys have gotten yourselves into this time." Bobby says, smile on his face.

"Sounds good Bobby." Sam says as he walks over to the piles and piles of books. He doesn't know if he'll actually be able to absorb any information until he's had some coffee, but he can at least look busy.

Bobby makes some coffee, which helps both Sam and Dean feel a little more awake and alert. Sam is now sitting at a desk, looking through a large book. Bobby is now completely caught up on the events of the last few days. Minus Dean's personal breakdowns and such. Dean can't handle someone else knowing how weak he truly is.

Dean is barely able to focus on anything. For some reason he feels uneasy around Bobby. Bobby is much like his father, but at the same time Bobby doesn't always ignore what's right in front of him. So if Dean's being too obvious, he's worried Bobby's going to start pushing. And he's too tired to push back right now.

"Here ya go." Bobby says as he passes a flask to Dean.

"What is this? Holy water?" Dean asks as he looks at the flask.

"That one is." Bobby responds, but then holds up a second flask. "This is whisky."

Dean smiles as Bobby takes a swig of the whisky. He then offers the flask to Dean. Dean doesn't even hesitate, as he takes a drink of the whisky. Sure, it's not enough to help, but it sure doesn't hurt any. He then passes the flask of whisky back to Bobby.

"Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if we should come." Dean says, softly.

"Nonsense. Your daddy needs helps." Bobby replies, putting the flask away.

"Yeah, but last time we saw you, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything." Dean says with a smile.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people." Bobby replies with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess he does." Dean says sadly. His emotions are trying to swallow him completely, and he feels like his loosing control. Why now? He can't do this.

Bobby looks at Dean with concern, but quickly masks his face with an unreadable expression. He doesn't want to make Dean uncomfortable. He's known Dean, John, and Sam for years, and he knows how they all operate.

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back." Bobby replies.

"Bobby, this book..." Sam voice cuts through, snapping Bobby out of his thoughts and concerns over Dean. "I've never seen anything like it."

Bobby and Dean walk over to Sam to see what book he is talking about. Sam doesn't want to take his eyes off the book. Just stay focused.

"The Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, all right." Bobby replies.

"And these protective circles..." Sam continues, pointing to drawings in the book. "...they really work?"

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in one, they're trapped...powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel." Bobby informs the brothers.

Sam laughs. It's been hours since he's slept, and they've finally caught a break. This doesn't really help find their father, but it helps in their fight.

"The man knows his stuff." Dean says with a smile. He's glad they went to Bobby's, he's the perfect person to help them in this situation.

"I'll tell you somethin' else, to...this is some serious crap you boys stepped in." Bobby says, getting serious.

"Yeah? How's that?" Sam asks.

"Normal year, I hear, say, three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops." Bobby continues.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, looking briefly over at his brother and relieved to see that Sam too seems to want to stay focused on the issue.

"This year, I've heard of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm sayin'? More and more demons are walking among us...a lot more." Bobby concludes.

"Do you know why?" Sam asks.

"No, but I know it's somethin' big. A storm's coming. And you boys, you daddy...you are smack in the middle of it." Bobby says, concerned now for a whole other reason.

Sam finally looks up at his brother, he can tell how tired Dean is. But they exchange a look of understanding. Both knowing that they need to push everything else aside. This is huge. Their father is still missing, and ever second counts.

They are both pulls from their thoughts as they hear a dog barking. All three look towards the window.

"Rumsfeld. What is it?" Bobby says as he rushes over to the window. Rumsfeld is no longer sitting on the hood of the pickup truck outside. Bobby looks back towards Sam and Dean. "Something's wrong."

Suddenly the front door is kicked down, and Meg walks into the house. Dean quickly takes flask of the holy water from his pocket. Meg looks pissed.

"No more crap, okay?" She says.

Dean takes the cap off as he begins to walk towards Meg. Before he can do anything, Meg hits him and he flies into the nearby wall. He collapses onto the ground. Sam gets up off his chair, wanting to run to his brother, but Bobby stands in front of him. Meg starts walking towards Sam and Bobby, and they start backing up. Bobby keeps Sam behind him.

"I want the Colt, Sam...the real Colt. Right now." Meg demands.

"We don't have it on us. We buried it." Sam replies, hoping his brother's all right. They continue into another room, and Sam looses sight of Dean.

"Didn't I say, "No more crap"? I swear, after everything I hear about you Winchesters, I've got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" Meg says, as she stops in the middle of the room.

Sam and Bobby are nearly up against the farthest wall. Dean comes up behind Meg, but Meg doesn't turn around.

"Actually, we were counting on it." Dean says.

Meg then turns to face Dean, who looks up at the ceiling. Meg looks up also to see a protective circle drawn on the ceiling. She sighs in frustration.

"Gotcha." Dean says with a smile.

Sam helps Dean get Meg into a chair and tied up. Meg gives them a bit of a fight, but surprising doesn't say much as she's being tied down. Dean feels extremely nervous being around Meg, the last time, she got under his skin and could have revealed so much if Sam wasn't able to get out of his restraints. But now, he needs to focus, focus on finding their father. And just hope that Meg doesn't say something in front of Sam, and especially Bobby. Sam already worries, but already knows so much. Bobby is completely in the dark, and Dean would like to keep it that way. So he puts his game face on, ready to get the information he needs, however he needs to get it.

Meg is now tied up and Dean paces the room. Bobby is no where in sight. Meg smiles.

"You know, if you wanted to tied me up, all you had to do was ask." Meg says, still smiling.

Sam and Dean ignore her. Bobby then enters the room and walks over to the boys.

"I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain't gettin' in." Bobby informs them.

Sam and Dean nod, and Dean goes over to talk to Meg. Sam stays with Bobby, and Bobby can see the look of concern on the youngest Winchester's face. Bobby wants to believe that they are both just tired, and stressed over their father and this demon mess. But Bobby can see something else, and it makes him a little uneasy.

"Where's our father, Meg?" Dean asks as he approaches Meg. He's pissed, and definitely not in the mood for Meg.

Sam is also worried. Sure, he has a good idea that Dean will keep all his other issues in check, that is if Meg doesn't bring them up first. But at the same time, Dean is pushing himself so hard that Sam's worried he'll do something rash.

"You didn't ask very nice." Meg says cooly.

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean replies, coldly. Not amused.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Of, I forgot. You don't." Meg says, with a smile.

Dean takes a deep breath as he leans in very close, inches away from her face. Meg's smile remains in place. Dean's anger is only rising.

"Hey, you think this is a friggin' game?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?" Dean asks, trying hard not to scream.

"He died screaming. I killed him myself." She responds, giving him a wicked smile.

Dean's breathing is coming out faster, and he backhands her across the face. Sam and Bobby are shocked, they nearly jump. Sam wants to rush his brother, pull him away. Instead, he stays in place.

"That's kind of a turn on...you hitting a girl. You back in commission yet?" Meg says, her hair now a little messy from the snap. But she keep a smile on her face.

Dean falters a moment, not wanting to give Meg the satisfaction of getting under his skin. He holds onto his anger. Sam on the other hand, is freaking out. He knows how much of a lose canon his brother is right now, and he has no idea what he'd do if Meg continues to push. Bobby on the other hand, just stays quiet, observing the scene in front of him unfold.

"You're no girl." Dean says, keeping the mask in place.

"Dean." Bobby says cautiously. He can tell there is something deeper happening with Dean, other than what's happening with their father. And he can tell Sam is highly concerned.

Dean takes a deep breath and leaves Meg. He walks towards Bobby and Sam.

"You okay?" Sam asks softly. He doesn't want to push his brother now, but he needs to ask.

"She's lying, he's not dead." Dean states, his eyes wild.

Sam doesn't know what to say to that. He's not sure if Dean's anger is still pushing through, or other pain as well. He's seen so many new looks from his brother, and this is just another one to add to the list. It scares him.

"Dean, you've got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her." Bobby says, noticing the tension between the boys.

"Why?" Dean asks, confused.

"Because she really is a girl, that's why." Bobby states.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, his concern fading as the confusing takes over.

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon, can't you tell?" Bobby asks, surprised. He thought the boys dealt with this stuff before. But he knew John didn't really have a preference as to what kind of hunts he went after, a hunt was a hunt.

"You're tryin' to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Dean asks.

Bobby nods, so Dean looks back over to Meg. Finally some good news.

"That's actually good news." Dean says as he looks back to Bobby.

Nobody knows what to say as Dean storms back into the room.

"Sam!" Dean calls out, and Sam snaps out of it. He quickly enters the room.

Bobby stays in place, not sure what to do. Dean walks over to the table where their father's journal is laying by Bobby's books. Dean picks up the book and throws it at Sam. Sam is surprised, but catches the book regardless. Dean just stares at Sam for a moment, before turning back to Meg.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" Meg asks, still smiling.

"Somethin' like that. Hit it, Sam." Dean says, as Sam turns to a latin exorcism and starts reading.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?" Meg says with a small laugh.

"Oh, we're goin' for it, baby...head-spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards." Dean replies, angrily as Sam continues to read.

Sam stops reading when he hears Meg grimaces and moan in pain. He's not sure what to do. He knows his brother is insistent on sending this demon back to hell, but what will it do to the girl? It doesn't sound very pleasant.

"I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from you body. Make you scream, again and again, like the little bitch you are." Meg says with a smile, but is clearly in pain.

Dean starts to shake, and Sam isn't sure why; anger or fear. Demon's have the ability to know things you really don't want them to know. He remembers how painful it was when that demon brought up Jessica on that plane. But Dean, he has so many other things Meg can drag up and rip from Dean. Things that Sam doesn't know the details about.

"No, you're gonna burn in hell...unless you tell us where our dad is." Dean says, holding a death grip on his anger, not letting the other emotions win out. Not letting Meg get under his skin.

Sam waits, not sure if he should continue. So he lets his brother take charge of the situation. And Meg remains silent, which Sam can only imagine is ticking his brother off.

"Well, at least you'll get a nice tan." Dean says with a smirk, turning to look at his brother. He gives Sam a nod.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica." Sam continues.

Meg starts to tremble and then lets out a scream. Sam is getting a little nervous, but Dean doesn't seem to change strides.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." Meg says through clenched teeth.

Sam looks at Dean, nervously. Dean then leans in very close to Meg.

"For your safe, I hope you're lying. 'Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself, and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God." Dean snarls, and then backs away from her.

"Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis." Sam pauses the the pages of nearby book start to turn on their own. "Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt."

Meg continues to shake, and lets out another scream. Dean approaches her again.

"Where is he?" Dean shouts.

"You just won't take "dead" for an answer, will you?" Meg asks, still smiling despite the pain.

"Where is he?!" Dean yells, louder.

"Dead!" Meg yells.

"No, he's not! He's not dead, he can't be!" Dean shouts, emotions cracking through his barriers.

Sam stops reading to look at his brother. He can see that Dean's slipping.

"What are you lookin' at? Keep reading." Dean says without looking at his brother.

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, aui nos." Sam continues.

Meg suddenly screams even louder. Her chair begins to move around the room as Sam continues to read. The lights in the room start to flicker as Meg continues to scream.

"Te rogamus audi..." Sam is cut off by Meg as her chair stops.

"He will be!" Meg yells.

"Wait! What?" Dean asks, desperately.

"He's not dead. But he will be after what we do to him." Meg says through the pain, trying to remain cocky.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean asks, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"You don't." Meg replies bluntly.

"Sam!" Dean demands.

"A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City." Meg replies desperately.

"Missouri? Where, where? An address!" Dean says, frantically. Feeling the pressure building inside, and the information finally within grasp.

"I don't know!" Meg shouts.

"And the demon, the one we're looking for, where is it?" Sam asks.

"I don't know, I swear! That's everything. That's all I know." Meg says desperately, trying to keep her skin. Tears streaking down her face from the pain, and her breathing is still coming out heavy.

"Finish it." Dean says to Sam, coldly.

"What? I told you the truth!" Meg replies, angry and scared.

"I don't care." Dean replies, keeping his back to her, turned towards Bobby.

"You son of a bitch. You promised." Meg says, pissed.

"I lied! Sam?" Dean waits, and hears nothing. "Sam!"

Dean turns over to look at his brother, who is just staring at him. He can tell that the exhaustion is now gone from his younger brother, replaced by concern. Dean feels more anger boiling in his veins. Why is it he can't catch a break? No matter what he does, people just look down on him, and are concerned. So Dean walks over to his brother.

"Read." Dean demands.

"We can still use her...find out where the demon is." Sam replies, hoping to mask his concern but he's pretty sure his brother has already seen it. He doesn't want to upset his brother anymore.

"She doesn't know." Dean says, getting now even more pissed off at his brother.

"She lied!" Sam shouts.

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We're got to help her." Dean replies, calming his voice but not himself. He's trying to remain calm, but he can't.

"You're gonna kill her." Bobby cuts in, approaching the brother.

"What?" Dean asks, confused.

"You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it, the girl is gonna die." Bobby states.

"Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that." Dean replies. He hates this, he hates these decisions he needs to make. He can understand where they are coming from, but no, this demon needs to be sent back.

"She is a human being." Bobby replies, getting a little more demanding like their father, but on the wrong topic. His father would be behind Dean, hence why Dean has these thoughts in the first place.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery." Dean replies.

Bobby says nothing, knowing there's not way he can win this. Dean's as stubborn as his father. Dean then turns to Sam.

"Sam, finish it." Dean says as he walks back into the room, away from Bobby.

Sam looks over a Bobby, looking for more answers. He doesn't want to do this, but he doesn't want to deny his brother. Not now.

"Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae. Terogamus audi nos." Sam starts.

Meg's body begins to twitch as Sam continues to read the exorcism. Her eyes turn black as her head tilts up and she lets out a long, loud scream towards the ceiling. An enormous cloud of black smoke erupts from her mouth. The three men watch in awe and confusion. When the demon has left her body, Meg's head falls forward. She is motionless and appears to be dead. But then a string of blood drips from her mouth. She slowly begins to lift up her head, blood running down her nose and mouth.

"She's still alive." Dean states, shocked. He turns to Bobby. "Call 911. Get some water and blankets."

Bobby leaves the room. Sam and Dean go over to Meg's chair and begin to untie the ropes around her wrists. Dean feels an unbearable amount of guilt on his chest. He knows it was the right thing to do, but he still can't help but feel like shit.

"Thank you." Meg says weakly.

"Shh, shh...just take is easy, alright? Shh." Sam says softly, concerned for both the girl in front of him, and his brother.

"Come on. Let's get her down." Dean says as they slowly and care pick her up off the chair.

Meg groans in pain as they set her down on the ground. Neither brother wants to risk a glance at the other, both fearing something in the other's look. So they both focus on the girl in front of them.

"Sorry, sorry. I've got you. I've got you. It's okay. It's okay." Sam says, worried.

"A year." Meg says quietly.

"What?" Sam asks.

"It's been a year." Meg replies, clearly in unbearable pain, even to speak.

"Shh, shh, just take it easy." Sam soothes, knowing it's a lost cause. He knows that help won't arrive on time, and he can only imagine how much grief his brother is putting on himself because of this.

"I've been awake...for some of it. I couldn't move my own body. The things I did...it's a nightmare." Meg replies softly, tears building in her eyes.

"Was it telling us the truth about our dad?" Dean says, finally finding his voice.

Sam looks up at his brother; this isn't the time. They shouldn't be bothering this poor girl with all this.

"Dean." Sam warns softly.

Dean finally looks up at his brother, even though he doesn't want to see the look of disappointment on his face. He's surprised when he doesn't see it. Sam's face is full of exhaustion, sadness, and of course concern. But no disappointment. Odd.

"We need to know." Dean replies, quickly recovering from his confusion.

Sam is surprised by the falter, but also surprised by the look on his brother's face. He's getting more and more desperate. They both are, they both want their father back, alive. They both want this to be over, this 20 plus year nightmare.

"Yes. But it wants you to know...that they want you to come for him." Meg replies weakly, her voice breaking Sam out of his thoughts.

"If Dad's still alive, none of that matters." Dean says softly, tears stinging his eyes but he refuses to let them fall. Why now?

Bobby enters the room with blankets and a glass of water. Dean mentally thanks Bobby for the distraction. He takes the water from Bobby and brings it to Meg's mouth. She tries to drink but spits most of it out, clearly in a lot of pain. Dean feels like shit, but he can't think about it right now.

"Where's the demon we're looking for?" Sam asks, seeing the pain on his brother's face. Noticing the tears trying to escape. He knows his brother is running on empty, and he needs everything to stay focused. So he does what his brother would want.

"Not there...other ones...awful ones." Meg replies, speech getting softer by the second.

"Where are they keeping out dad?" Dean asks, trying not to overly push.

"By the r-river...Sunrise." Meg struggles.

"Sunrise? What does that mean?" Dean asks, a little more desperate. But Meg says nothing. "What does that mean?"

Meg lays on the ground, motionless. She's dead. Sam exchanges a sad glance to Bobby, before looking back to his brother. Dean just stares at Meg's lifeless body, his body starting to slightly shake.

"You better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here." Bobby voice cuts through Dean's thoughts of guilt.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean ask, not taking his eyes off Meg.

"You think you guys invented lying' to the cops? I'll figure somethin' out." Bobby replies, trying to get the boys to get a move on.

Luckily, the boys didn't bring much inside with them when they first got to Bobby. Dean quickly gets off the ground, and grabs their father's journal off the nearby table, where Sam earlier threw it. Sam and Bobby watch Dean with concern.

"Here. Take this. You might need it." Bobby says, taking a book of the desk and passes it to Sam.

"Thanks." Sam says, still watching his brother.

Dean, now having the journal, turns to Sam and Bobby. He just needs to get out of the house, and as soon as possible. He can handle his brother. But he can't handle someone new. Bobby doesn't need to be around him like this.

"Thanks...for everything. Be careful, all right?" Dean says, voice filled with emotions that he tries so hard to push away.

"You just go find your dad. And when you do, bring him around, would ya? I won't even try to shoot him this time." Bobby says, smiling.

Dean laughs slightly, but it doesn't last. He can't breath. He gives Bobby one last look before turning and leaving the room, leaving the house. Sam watches him, frozen.

"Take care of your brother Sam." Bobby says, his voice snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

"I will. Thanks for all this Bobby." Sam says, with a sad smile.

"You boys are welcome here anytime, okay? Be careful." Bobby says, concerned but trying not to show it.

Sam nods, and then follows his brother out of Bobby's house.

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Dean was quiet the whole way to Missouri and it actually scares Sam. They have both been up for so long, that logically they should be dead on their feet. But adrenaline is still pumping through them, keeping them awake.

When they get to Missouri Sam throws concern out the window, and focuses on what needs to be done. He knows that's what Dean would want. But he can't help but be sure, at least once, before getting into soldier mode.

"You've been quiet." Sam says as they get ready.

They have the car parked, and they are getting what they need out of the trunk. Weapons and such. Dean doesn't even know what to say. He feels like he's loosing control every minute, so if this turns out to be a false lead, Dean's screwed.

"Just getting ready." Dean replies, coldly.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean." Sam tries to comfort his brother, but knows it's pointless.

Dean doesn't reply, so Sam takes the cue. Sam looks through the book Bobby gave him and finds what he needs. He wipes away some dust on the trunk of the car and begins to draw a picture. Dean notices, and now every concern is gone and replaced by frustration. Why is his brother touching his car?

"Dude, what are you drawin' on my car?" Dean snaps.

"It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it." Sam replies, as he finishes the drawing.

"So?" Dean demands.

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." Sam replies as he begins to draw a second devil's trap on the other side of the trunk.

"So?" Dean asks again.

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad." Sam finally answers the question.

"What are you talkin' about? We're bringing the Colt with us." Dean replies. Seriously, his brother thinks they are leaving their best weapons behind. Man, they really do need sleep.

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use 'em on any demon. We've got to use 'em on the demon." Sam says sharply. He hates behind cold. He hates being the soldier. How does his brother do it?

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get." Dean replies, getting frustrated. It's not like him to let his emotions get in the way. But it's their dad, it's not a regular job.

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun." Sam keeps his cool, even though his brain and his emotions keep calling him a dick. If everything else was fine, if this was only about their father and this demon, then maybe Sam wouldn't feel so bad. But Dean's been throw hell this last year, he shouldn't act like this.

"I don't care, Sam! I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?" Dean snaps, getting more and more pissed off. Why is Sam doing this, why now?

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that too! Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school! You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just tryin' to finish it!" Sam shouts. He may believe what he says, but he doesn't want it to come out this way. His brother is more important than all this.

Dean can't believe it. Growing up, Sam hating this and Dean was fine with that. Was glad that the life didn't effect his brother the way it effected him. But now....

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. And, I can't. Sam, I can't to that." Dean's voice cracks at the end, not wanted to get emotional, but his brother is kind of putting him in a tight spot.

Sam feels like his heart is breaking. His brother has been honest with him lately, and now Sam's being a dick.

"You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge." Dean says, snapping back into his anger. His brother wants to play this game. Fine!

"That's not true, Dean. I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage, and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't." Sam says, still cold even though he feels like he's ripping his heart out.

"Fine." Dean replies, giving up.

"I'm serious, Dean." Sam says sharply.

"I said "fine", Sam." Dean says as he takes the gun out of his pocket, shows it to Sam, and then places it in the trunk. Dean stays by the trunk as Sam walks around the car.

Sam walks away from his brother as a tear runs down his face, he quickly wipes it away, hoping his brother didn't see. He needs to be strong, for both of them right now.

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Sam feels like a dick, cutting off his emotions, trying to do what he thought was best for the situation. Turns out, he should always just listen to his brother. He could have died if his brother actually listened to him and left the colt in the car. But that's not important now.

They have their father back. That's what's important.

Now they find themselves in an abandoned little cabin. Their father is resting in a room. Dean can't sleep, neither can Sam. They are both wired, despite the fact that they got what they needed. They got their father back.

Sam is finishing the salt lines as Dean enters the room, sitting on a bed. They haven't talked since leaving Bobby. Both too focused on getting their father back alive.

"How is he?" Sam asks as he sets the salt down and turns to face his brother.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all. How are you?" Dean asks. Hoping that they can keep everything light. Just talk about psychical pain instead of the bigger topics, emotions stuff.

"I'll survive. Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?" Sam asks, trying to get his mind to work. Sleep would be so great right about now.

"I don't know. I don't think so. We couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up." Dean says as he yawns.

"Yeah...I guess we should get some rest of something." Sam says, fighting back his own yawn.

"I know I should be tired, but I'm a little too wired. I can't sleep right now, too much going on. We'll sleep in a bit. Make sure we weren't followed. Let dad get some rest." Dean says with a small smile as he stretches out, trying to work out the kinks.

"Yeah. Hey, uh...Dean, you um...you saved my life back there." Sam says softly, feeling like an idiot.

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean replies with a smirk. Conversation is going pretty well so far, but it's only a matter of time.

"Man, I'm tryin' to thank you here." Sam says, awkwardly.

Dean looks up at his brother, not sure what else to say. How is it that they are both still awake. Doesn't make sense.

"You're welcome." Dean replies softly.

Sam smiles and walks to the other side of the room. He needs to keep moving or he will pass out. There are so many things running through his mind, but this really isn't the time. They need sleep. And Dean won't want to have this kind of a conversation here, not with their father so close by.

"If your tired, you should take a nap. Maybe we can take shifts or something until we know for sure we weren't followed." Dean says, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

"Naw. we'll pull yet another all nighter together. Don't want you passing out on your shift if I leave you alone." Sam says with a smile.

Dean smiles, but drops his head. Staring at his hands. Sam stays where he is, keeping his distant. Letting his brother control the conversation.

"Couldn't sleep, don't want to sleep." Dean replies, sadly.

Sam feels tears stinging his eyes, the pain radiating from his brother is intense. Sure, they have their father back, but the war is far from over. So Sam knows that Dean still want to keep his head clear of all the other memories and emotions that are trying to drag him down. Sam just wishes he could help his brother somehow.

"He Sam?" Dean cuts through Sam's thoughts again.

"Yeah?" Sam asks.

"You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there." Dean replies. Might as well talk, if they don't he'll fall asleep. And if he falls asleep he's going to have a nightmare, he just knows it. So if he can't talk about that, might as well talk about something job related. Even if it's painful.

"You didn't have a choice, Dean." Sam feels like crying, everything that's happened, it's too much. He knows Dean must feel guilt over Meg, and now this. Not to mention everything else that's going on.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me." Dean replies, still not looking up at his brother.

"Then what does?" Sam asks.

"Killin' that guy, killin' Meg...I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it just...it scares me sometimes." Dean says softly, finally looking up at his brother. He feels his emotions starting to boil over.

Sam just looks at his brother, sadly. Before he can say anything their father enters the room.

"It shouldn't. You did good." John says.

"You're not mad?" Dean replies, happy for the change. He can put on his masks, be the soldier in front of their father. He needs to be. But with just Sam, it seems like he's been around him too long, his walls are crumbling around him in front of Sam, but Dean almost doesn't mind.

"For what?" John asks.

"Usin' a bullet." Dean replies.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you...you watch out for this family. You always have." John says, smiling.

"Thanks." Dean replies, slightly confused.

The lights in the room begin to flicker. A strong wind starts to blow outside. They all move to the window.

"It found us. It's here." John states.

"The demon?" Sam asks.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door." John demands.

"Already did it." Sam replies.

"Well, check it, okay?" John snaps.

Sam nods and leaves the room. He doesn't want to leave his brother, but maybe it's nice to have a break. He can let the tears out as he's alone, checking the salt.

Back in the room, Dean and John continue to stare out the window.

"Dean, you got the gun?" John asks.

"Yeah." Dean replies, feeling uneasy.

"Give it to me." John demands, holding his hand out.

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished." Dean replies as he gets the Colt out of his jacket.

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun. Hurry." John says in a hurry and forceful.

Dean holds out the gun, but doesn't give it to his father. He can't shake this feeling he's gotten ever since he's father got up.

"Son, please." John demands.

Dean takes a few steps away from his father, _this isn't right._ He's father hasn't been acting right. Why hasn't he gotten pissed.

"Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?" John keeps his hand out, waiting.

"He'd be furious." Dean says. He can't believe this is happening, after everything. His breathing starts coming out in faster busts, but he refuses to let the tears or shakes out.

"What?" John asks.

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one." Dean says as he slowly raises the gun, and cocks it. "You're not my dad."

Dean feels like screaming. He can't do this. He can't pull the trigger, he can't kill his father. Why their dad? Why would they do this to them?

"Dean, it's me." John says, staying calm.

"I know my dad better than anymore. And you ain't him." Dean says, also trying to keep his calm. Feeling his emotions rising.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" John asks, starting to get angry.

"I could ask you the same thing." Dean replies.

Sam enters the room and freezes. His brother is pointing the Colt at their father. He didn't think he was gone that long. Sure, he took a moment to try and pull his emotions in, unfortunately that lead to some tears. He didn't think he'd be gone long enough for something like this to happen.

"Dean? What the hell is going on?" Sam demands, shocked.

"Your brother's lost his mind." John informs his youngest son.

"He's not Dad." Dean replies, keeping his eyes on his father.

"What?" Sam asks.

"I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him." Dean replies, feeling his hand start to shake.

"Don't listen to him, Sammy. You both are exhausted. How long has it been since you both have slept?" John asks his sons.

"Dean, how do you know?" Sam asks, ignoring their father.

"He's different." Dean replies, trying to control his hand. He doesn't want his father, possessed or not, to see him shaking.

"You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, you want to kill this demon, you've got to trust me." John demands.

Sam doesn't know what to do. He looks back and forth at John and Dean. _This is so messed up._

"Sam?" John asks.

"No." Sam says, shaking his head. "No."

Sam walks over to Dean, and stands next to him. He doesn't know how his brother knows, but that's not the point. He needs to stand by his brother right now. John starts to cry, which surprises both of them.

"Fine. You're both so sure? Go ahead. Kill me." John says, as he hangs his head in sadness.

Dean stares at his father. Tears start to sting his eyes, filling them up, but he refuses to let them fall. After a moment, he slowly lowers the gun.

"I thought so." John says with a smile. He raises his head, his eyes now yellow.

Suddenly, Sam and Dean are both get pinned up against the walls of the room by an invisible force. They can barely move. John then walks over to the Colt, and picks it up off the floor.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been." John says, looking at the gun.

"It's you, isn't it? We've been lookin' for you for a long time." Sam says, pissed.

"You found me." John replies, no longer acting. Obviously not concerned.

"But the holy water...." Sam starts, trying to come up with a plan. Trying not to worry like crazy about his brother.

"You think somethin' like that works on somethin' like me?" John asks.

Sam tries to lift his head off the wall, but he can't. The demon's hold is too strong.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam snarls, holding onto the hate and anger. Keeping his attention on the demon possession their father. He doesn't want to see the state his brother's in, not yet.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact, here." John replies as he sets the gun on the nearby table. "Make the gun float to ya there, psychic boy."

Sam is unable to do anything, and he's starting to freak out. He thought Meg was going to be a problem, bringing up things for Dean that would be too painful. But this, this is harder. Despite the fact that he has no idea how they'll get out of this alive. If this demon says something to Dean, looking like that, Sam doesn't know if he'll be able to get him back.

"Well, this is fun. I could've have killed you a hundred time today, but this...this is worth the wait. We're going to have some fun." John smiles as he turns to face Dean. "Your dad? he's in here with me...trapped inside his own meat suit. He says "hi", by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

Sam starts to panic, and he wonders if this is the feeling Dean deals with on a daily basis. If so, man, that must suck. But he tries to remain calm, stay focused for his brother. Be aware of what's going on incase he needs to talk his brother out of a panic attack. Which won't be easy from where he is.

"Let him go. Or I swear to God..." Dean says coldly, latching onto his anger.

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." John continues as he moves closer to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?" Dean asks, confused.

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?" John finishes, inches away from Dean.

"You've got to be kiddin' me." Dean says, trying to avoid the stares of his father's eyes. He knows it's not him, not now...but he still doesn't know if he can take much more of this.

"What? You're the only one who can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" John asks.

Dean says nothing, feeling the pain becoming overwhelming. John only smiles, the demon being able to read Dean's emotions like a book.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right." John says, still smiling.

Sam sees the pain on his brother's face, tears welling up in his own eyes. So he knows he needs to say something, soon. Distract the demon from his brother.

"You son of a bitch." Dean says, fighting everything he has to keep his tears away and his breathing normal.

"I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam asks, hoping to get the demon's attention.

"You mean, why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?" John asks, knowing what Sam is trying to do.

"Yeah." Sam feels his own pain rising to the surface. He knows the demon's trying to push at his buttons, at both of theirs. But he feels he can handle it more than his brother right now.

"You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shoppin' for rings and everything." John tells his oldest son.

Sam feels the memories of Jessica trying to cut off his air, but he pushes through it. He hopes Dean doesn't hate Sam for keeping something from him. He never thought it was important, it just hurt talking about her. John then turns and walks over to Sam. Sam's not sure if he thinks this is a good thing, but they're kind of screwed at the moment. So he'll give his brother a bit of a break.

"You wanna know why? Because they got in the way." John tells Sam.

"In the way of what?" Sam keeps his eyes of the demon, even though he wants to make sure Dean's holding up.

"My plans for you, Sammy...you, and all the children like you." John replies with a smile.

Dean hates this. Hates what the demon is doing. Whether or not he's telling the truth, he doesn't care. So he does the one thing he knows how to do best, even if he's almost certain it's going to end badly for him.

"Listen...you mind just gettin' this over with, huh? 'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing." Dean says with a smile.

_No, no, no. Damn it._ Sam knows this is what Dean does, but he thought Dean would be smart enough not to. But he can only assume that Dean thinks he's doing what's best for Sam, and that kind of bugs him.

John turns to Dean, and smiles. The demon is going to have fun with Dean before ripping him apart. Their father awake, and aware of what's going on and what's being said. So the Demon walks John over to his oldest son.

"Funny. But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth." John taunts.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Dean asks, keeping his cocky grin in place.

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is...they don't need you. Not like you need them. Right?" John says with a smile.

Sam looks over at his brother, and sees the pain. His brother is fighting so hard, and he feels like there's nothing he can do. Maybe his brother's mentality is right, the demon should just kill them. But Sam has a bad feeling the demon wants to tear them a part emotionally before he literally tears them apart.

"Does Sammy know how weak you truly are? I bet he does. Bet you've cried on his shoulder every night, at least you've wanted to? Haven't you? Just like you ran into your daddy arms. Cried like a little baby after the bad man touched you." John continues, still smiling.

"Shut up." Dean snarls, feeling himself start to shake.

"What? No witty little comeback? Am I hitting a nerve?" John asks.

Dean just shakes his eyes, tears welling up in his eyes. He can't hear this, not from his father. Anybody else, but not him. Not now.

"And here comes the waterworks. God, your such a disappointment." John concludes, loving the pain Dean is trying to suppress.

"Dean! Don't listen to him. It's not Dad. It's not him. Dad isn't disappointed in you. Please, Dean!" Sam shouts, trying to get through to his brother.

"What about you kids? huh? Were they a disappointment?" Dean says with a smirk. It's getting harder to breath, but he's trying so hard to be strong.

Sam bangs his head against the wall behind him, he can't believes his brother just said that. Does he really want to die?

The demon stares at Dean for a moment, before backhanding him hard across the face. Sam cringes as Dean's head snaps to the side due to the force.

Tears run down Dean's face, unable to hold them back any longer. He just wants to disappear into the wall behind him. He wants to avoid the stares, so he keeps his head to the side. But the demon, in their father's skin, grips Dean's chin and forcefully pulls Dean's head straight.

"See Sammy, this is what your brother is. Always has been. Those walls aren't as strong as you think, are they Dean?" John asks.

"Leave him alone, please." Sam pleads as he sees the tears running down his brother's face. He knows it's pointless to ask the demon anything, but he wants his brother to hear his voice.

"Does the cheek hurt boy? Bet you miss that feeling, huh?" John asks he touches his son's cheek.

Dean just shakes his head as more tears make their way down his face. This is the one thing he doesn't want this demon to reveal. His brother knows about the foster care day, and the rape. But not this, not the cutting. That's the one thing Dean's sure will be the final straw, that one thing to finally make his brother leave him. That is if they don't die right here.

The demon knows everything about this family, and he's almost embarrassed at how easy it is to break the families "perfect soldier". He know how much pain it would cause if he informed Sam of the one secret Dean is holding tight. But instead, he feels this will be much more destructive. He almost doesn't want to kill them now. It would be fun to watch the family try and put Dean back together.

"But I'll save that for another time, or let you take that secret to your grave." John informs his shaking son.

Sam looks over at his brother, what else is he keeping from him? Sure, demon's lie all the time, but he doubts he is right now. Why would he? Dean as so much going on.

"Then do it already, seriously. Just do it, kill me. Get it over with." Dean says, tears still streaming down his face. He's trying hard not to breakdown.

Sam feels tears falling down his own face. He wishes he could get to that gun, it's just sitting on the table, mocking him. He bangs his head on the wall behind him again, hating this feeling.

"You want to know why your father really left you behind? Why he didn't meet up with you after your New Orleans job? Come on, tell us what you really think? You don't really believe your father's lame excuses. He was lying right to your face." John says with a snarl.

Dean just shakes his head. It's not true. It can't be true.

"Dean! It's not true. You know he's just lying! Please, Dean, don't listen to him." Sam shouts.

Dean looks over to Sam, tears running down both of their faces. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

"He's been following you this whole time. You really think he doesn't know what happened to you? You were hospitalized over night, you needed stitches, you needed to use one of those nice little fake insurance cards. You don't think you're father missed that? He knew when you got into the heap of a mess in St. Louis, he knew when you boys were in Lawrence, and he knew when you were hospitalized after your heart attack. Are really so stupid that you don't think he doesn't know about this?" John asks, smiling as more tears run down Dean's face, faster.

"No, it's not true. It can't be true." Dean says softly, wishing he could wipe the tears from his face. He feels like a waste of space, embarrassed by the emotion showing because of a demon. He should be better than this.

"You got tested, twice, you don't think your father knew about that? So pathetic. All those years of training, and nothing. You just gave up. It was only three men Dean, how could they have possibly got the jump on you? In your own motel room. You're pathetic." John sneers, loving everything minute of Dean's pain.

Three men? Sam had no idea, Dean never talked about it. He got the impression it was more than one, but three. Damn it. Sam can only imagine, the pain, fear, humiliation, and torture that his brother had to endure.

"But a couple of kicks, and you were down. Just took it. How can you even stand to call yourself a Winchester. Sam...he's clearly John's favorite. Not that there's any competition. And even when they fight. It's more concern that he's ever shown you." John spits out. Venom and hatred in his voice.

Dean takes a deep breath, the tremors still running through his body. He can't do this anymore, so he can only do one thing. Piss this guy off.

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted 'em." He smiles weakly, trying to stop the tears, trying to be brave.

The demon says nothing, and Sam doesn't know what to think. He's freaking out, trying so hard to push against the invisible holds. But nothing happens. He's scared for his brother. The demon will only listen to so many smart-ass comments before he decides the games are no longer fun.

The demon lowers his head and takes a step back. Dean doesn't know what he just did but it can't be good. He wishes he could talk to his brother a bit, tell him how sorry he is. Tell him that he really doesn't want to die.

After a moment, both boys fearing the worst, John raises his eyes again to meet Dean. Suddenly, Dean begins to bleed heavily from the cheat, and he lets out a scream of agony. Pain ripping through his body.

"Dean! No!" Sam shouts, he continues to try and push off the wall, but nothing.

Dean continues to scream as more blood pours out of him. This isn't what he wants. The pain is unbearable. He almost can't stand it, and he prays for darkness. He doesn't want to die, he really doesn't. He just wants all the pain to stop. Why is there always so much pain?

"Dad! Dad, don't let it kill me!" Dean cries, more tears running down his face, just as fast as the blood. Dean hates to beg, but he can't help it. Blood begins to seep out of his mouth.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, not sure what else to do. He can't get to his brother. He feels completely helpless, and stupid.

"Dad, please." Dean says softly as the blood stops seeping out of his chest. Dean hangs his head, unconscious, finally welcoming the darkness.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, he can't be dead, he can't be dead.

John lowers his eyes, and a tear falls down his face. Sam doesn't know what's happening, and he hates it.

"Stop." John says tearfully. He lifts his eyes, his eyes returning to normal. "Stop it."

The force holding Sam to the wall is released, and Sam pushes himself off the wall. Sam rushes to the table, and grabs the Colt. He points it at John, who is now the demon again. The demon turns to face Sam.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy." John says with a smirk.

"I know." Sam replies, confidently. He doesn't hesitate, he shoots his father in the leg.

John walls to the ground, unconscious. Dean also collapses, and gasps in pain. Sam rushes over to his brother.

"Dean? Hey. Oh, God, you lost a lot of blood." Sam says softly, as he kneels in front of his brother.

"Where's Dad?" Dean asks, weakly. He feels numb.

"He's right here. He's right here, Dean." Sam replies, trying to sound comforting. He doesn't know what to do, they are out of cell range, and a little under thirty-minutes from a hospital.

"Go check on him." Dean demands, softly.

"Dean, I'm not leaving you. God, I'm so sorry." Sam says, as more new tears run down his face.

"Go check on him, please. We can do the chick-flick thing once you save our asses, alright?" Dean says, trying to smile but coughs in pain. Tears also running down his face.

Sam tries to smile at Dean's attempt at normalcy. He doesn't want to upset his brother, so he goes over to their father.

"Dad? Dad?" Dean asks softly, from his spot on the floor.

John suddenly wakes up, and it startles Sam. John is shaking, and Sam wants to hope for the best, but that isn't really the Winchester way.

"Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" John shouts, clearly struggling.

Sam slowly raising the gun, more tears running down his face. He takes a deep before he cocks the gun. He can't do this, not really, it's their father. He wants the demon dead, but...no, not like this.

"Do it, now!" John demands.

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it." Dean cries, tears flowing quickly down his face. He's fighting so hard to stay awake, he doesn't want this to happen. He knows his father would do anything to end this, but Sam....he hopes he's gotten through to his brother.

"You got to hurry! I can't hold on to it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me!" John yells.

Sam can't concentrate. Too many people yelling at him, he doesn't know what to do. Why is this what it has to come down to. If he pulls the trigger, everything would be over. This war would be over. But he'd also lose a father, and he would definitely lose Dean. He knows Dean can't handle loosing their father, especially not at his own hands. But if he doesn't pull the trigger, they continue in this painful war. The demon still lose in the world.

"Son, I'm beggin' you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!" John shouts, losing the battle. The demon pushes his way to the surface, needing to escape.

"Sam, no." Dean says, as he continues to cry. He's not sure if they can hear him, but he needs to voice it, regardless. He feels like he can cry for days, sobs trying to rip through his chest. But he refuses to let them out, feeling he'd die from release. The cuts on his chest wanting to shed more blood.

"You do this! Sammy! Sam..." John is cut off by a scream. The demon erupts from John's mouth in a cloud of black smoke. When the demon has left his body, the smoke disappears through the floorboards of the room.

John looks at Sam sadly, and collapses against the floor. He's breathing heavily. All three are in tears. Sam looks between his father and his brother. He needs to get a move on, he needs to get his brother and father to a hospital.

"Shit." Sam curses.

"Get your brother." John says, not looking at his son.

"No, please...." Dean mumbles from the corner.

Sam looks over to his brother finally, and his tears run faster down his face. Dean has his eyes closed, pain written on his face and tears streaming quickly.

"Dad, I'm going to....shit. We got to get you two to a hospital. Can you stand?" Sam asks as he kneels down next to his father.

"Don't worry about me, get your brother. He needs a doctor." John demands, wishing Sam would just fall alive.

"So do you, and if I don't get you to the hospital too we both know the doctors won't do Dean any good. Now can you stand or not?!" Sam snaps.

John stops, surprised by Sam's tone. He looks over at Dean, who is still crying on the floor. Silent tears running down his face, and clearly in so much pain.

"Okay, okay...uh...will you be able to get your brother to the car by yourself?" John asks as he painfully sits up.

"I'll be fine. Let's get you to the car, and then I'll get Dean. Give give me a second." Sam says as he quickly gets off the ground.

John tries to sit up, despite the pain shooting through his leg. Sam rushes over to his brother and kneels down in front of him.

"Dean? Can you hear me? Dean?" Sam asks desperately as he cups his brother face in his hands, tears still streaming down his brother's face. Sam wants to start crying again.

"Sammy? Is dad okay?" Dean asks softly.

"You two are going to be the death of me...he's okay." Sam says with a soft laugh.

"What?" Dean asks, barely able to stay awake.

"He's okay. I'm going to get him to the car, okay? I'll only be a minute, will you be okay for just a minute?" Sam asks, desperately. He needs to get a move on, now.

"Okay, okay...I'll be okay." Dean says softly as Sam brushes some tears off Dean's face.

"Okay, I'll be right back and then we'll get you some help, okay?" Sam says, fighting back tears. "I'll be right back."

Sam gets up off the floor, and rushes towards his father. He brushes a tear from his face as he helps his father to his feet. John leans on Sam just a little, even though Sam knows he's in pain. It's the Winchester stubbornness.

"We'll be right back Dean." Sam says before he helps his father out of the room.

Dean tries to stop the tears but they won't stop. He feels weak, he knows he's lost way too much blood. He knows the chances of them getting to the hospital on time is slime. And he just has to accept that. Accept that he's a waste of space.

Outside Sam quickly helps his father to the car.

"You're brother's going to be alright Sam." John says as they approach the car.

"Were you awake for any of it?" Sam asks.

"It's not important." John replies, coldly.

"Was any of it true Dad?" Sam demands as they finally get to the car.

"Sam, this isn't the time." John snaps.

Sam silently helps John into the passenger seat. He kneels down in front of the car, needing to say something to his father.

"Dad, if any of what that son of a bitch said is true, I don't care how banged up you are...I will kick your ass. Do you understand. You better pray Dean gets through this. And when he does, you are going to talk to him. Stop with the military bullshit and be a goddamn father." Sam snaps. He doesn't wait for an answer, he just slams to door closed.

John leans back in his seat, feeling tears stinging his eyes again. He grips his leg, right above the bullet hole. The pain is excruciation, and John feel in this moment that maybe he deserves it.

Sam walks back into the cabin, and rushes over to his brother. Dean's eyes are barely open, but they are open.

"Dean, hey...we're going to get you out of here, alright?" Sam says as he kneels next to his brother.

"Is Dad okay?" Dean asks weakly.

"Yeah, he's okay Dean. We're going to get you both to the hospital." Sam replies as he hooks an arm under is brother. "You're going to be okay."

Sam slowly pulls Dean into a sitting position, and Dean lets out a scream.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But we need to get you out of here." Sam says as he tightly grips his brother around the waist.

Dean, who seems much more awake now, nods. "Okay, okay, okay. Do it. Just fucking do it." Dean replies quickly, trying to be brave.

After a couple attempts, Dean is on his feet, leaning heavily on Sam. Dean starts to shake, new tears running down his face. Dean wonders where all these tears are coming from, how can he still be crying?

"You're going to be alright, it's okay. I know it huts, but you're going to be okay." Sam repeats while he helps Dean out of the cabin.

Once they are outside, Sam needs to take a break but he keeps going. His muscles pushing so hard, that it hurts. There's only one thing to do, and that's to keep walking.

"Is he mad?" Dean asks, clearly in a lot of pain.

"What? Who?" Sam asks as they approach the car.

"Is he mad at me? Is he mad that I'm such a screw up." Dean cries as they get to the car.

Sam ignore their father's glare as he lets Dean lean against the car.

"Dean...once you're all patched up, everything is going to be so much better. Okay. I'm so sorry. It wasn't him Dean, none of it." Sam says with a smile, as he wipes some tears from his brother's face. It doesn't help thought, the tears just keep coming.

"Let's get you in the car." Sam feels his own tears rising to the surface again.

Sam gets Dean into the backseat of the car, and quickly runs around the car. Sam quickly gets into the driver's seat. He starts the car and they drive away.

They drive in silence for the first couple minutes, nobody knows what to say. John is clearly pissed, and Sam knows it. Dean is completely silent and it's really starting to scared Sam. The tears have stopped, and Sam can tell that his brother is fading.

"Just hold on, all right? Hospital's only ten minutes away." Sam says quickly, driving as fast as he can.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye to eye on this...killin' this demon comes first. Before me, before everything." John is clearly ticked off, and Sam can't really blame him. He doesn't expect his father to get this.

Sam glances at Dean in the rearview mirror. Sam can tell that Dean is barely keeping his eyes open. He needs to drive faster, as fast as he can.

"No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we still have the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, all right, I mean, we already found the demon..." Sam is cut off by a crash.

A large 18-wheeler semi slams into the side of the Impala, sending it off the road.

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Sorry I didn't get it posted on tuesday like I said, but I hope you liked it, am a little nervous. Not sure if this chapter was what you all expected, but still hope you all enjoyed it. REVIEWS are highly appreciated.

Well, that's season one. Onto season two. Still a lot of angst to cover, and a lot of recovery.

Thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

Thanks to rholou, J-09, Wen1, moira4eku for your kind reviews.

No real warnings for this chapter. Just some swearing, and light talk about self-harm, and other issues.

Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy Chapter 12. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 12 - IN MY DYING TIME**

The trip to the hospital was a panicked blur for Sam. Nobody would tell him anything, they seemed more concerned about his own life. He doesn't remember how exactly they got to the hospital, but he only prayed every second that his brother and father were okay.

The trip to the hospital was a complete blank for John and Dean. Both completely out of it during the trip. Dean barely remembers how he got out of the cabin, let alone how he got to the hospital. But here he is, lying in a hospital bed.

Dean slowly sits up in his bed and looks around the room. He's wearing a pair of hospital pajamas. He get off the bed and leaves the room. He needs to find Sam. Needs to know what happened. Bits and pieces of the previous night keep flashes in his mind, but nothing solid. He can only guess that he must have taken a pretty nasty blow to the head.

The hospital halls are empty and Dean feels a rising panic in his chest. He doesn't remember what happened, why they're here. It's all too fuzzy, but he does remember pain.

"Sam?...Dad?...Anybody?..." Dean yells as he continues down the hallway, but nobody answers his calls.

Dean finally makes it to the front desk, after struggling down a flight of stairs. He isn't in a lot pain, but it's still a struggle. The receptionist behind the counter is working. Dean feels a sense of relief wash over him, finally some answers.

"Excuse me. Hi. I think I was in a car accident with my dad and my brother. I just need to find them." Dean asks, waiting for an answer. Hoping his family is alright.

The receptionist completely ignores him, and Dean is a little confused. "Hello?" Dean waves his hand in front of her face, but still nothing.

Dean's breathing starts to pick up, and he starts to panic. Something is definitely wrong. He rushes back to his room and feels like collapsing. Dean looks at himself, laying on his bed, unconscious. How can this be? What was happening to him.

Dean continues to look at himself, confused. He feels like he can't breath, but luckily gets a distraction. Sam enters the room.

Sam has bruises and cuts on his face, and he walks straight to the Dean lying unconscious.

"Sammy. You look good, considering." Dean smiles widely, relief flooding his body. His brother is okay. He still has no idea what's happening to him, but at least his brother is okay.

"Oh, no." Tears start to build up in Sam's eyes already. He can't break down, not now. If he does, he's almost positive he won't be able to stop.

"Man, tell me you can hear me...How's Dad? Is he okay?" Dean asks, but he quickly realizes that Sam can't hear him. _Great!_

"Come on, you're the psychic. Give me some ghost whisperin' or somethin'." Dean feels like screaming, but he knows that would be absolutely pointless.

Sam feels completely helpless as he stares at his brother's body, but then there's a look of confusion on his face. His eyes are drawn to some healing cuts that are on Dean's arms. They clearly are older than a couple night, so they couldn't have been caused by anything the demon did, or the crash.

Dean sees the change in his brother's face as he approaches him. He follows his brother's eye line to his own arm. _Shit._ He looks down at his own arm to see the cuts. _Stupid hospital for putting me in a stupid t-shit._ Dean continues to stare at the cuts that he make back in Salvation. Feels like a long time ago, but in reality it wasn't. It was only a few days ago, so obviously they wouldn't be healed.

"No...no, shit!" Dean says as he shakes his head and backs away from his brother.

Maybe he can think of something, I mean he clearly has some time to think up some lie that will make sense. But this isn't one little cut on his arm that can be explained away by a hunt. There are four perfect cuts on his arm, and they haven't had a hunt lately that would explain them.

So really...Dean is screwed.

Sam is confused by the cuts. He didn't think his brother was hurt. He doesn't know how his brother could have gotten them. His mind is racing, over so many possibilities. But he doesn't have much time to dwell on them, as his thoughts are interrupted by the doctor entering.

"You're father's awake. You can go see him if you like." The doctor says.

"Oh, thank god." Dean says, completely forgetting about the panic in his chest.

"Doc, what about my brother?" Sam asks, still staring at his brother's arm.

"Well, he sustained serious injury...blood loss, contusions to his live and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema." The doctor informs Sam as he walks towards. The doctor stands on the other side of Dean's bed.

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asks, finally looking up at the doctor.

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up...if he wakes up." The doctor replies, obviously a little uncomfortable.

"If?" Sam wants to believe he heard the doctor wrong, but he doubts it. He feels his heart begin to race, and he wants to kill something, anything.

"Screw you doc, I'm wakin' up!" Dean shouts at the doctor, despite the fact that no-one can hear him.

Dean and the doctor start talking at the same time. Dean keeps talking despite the fact he knows Sam can't hear him.

"I have to be honest. Most people with his degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations, son." The doctor says.

"Come on, Sam. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. I'll be fine. Sam?" Dean says over the doctor.

Sam looks down at Dean, sadly. His eyes drawn back to his arm, and the cuts. Where did they come from? It was bugging Sam like crazy.

Dean could tell that Sam's attention was drawn back to his arm, and he only hoped it wouldn't draw the doctors attention. But then again, why should he be so lucky. He just hopes that this is some bad dream, and he'll wake up, and none of this will be real. Sam will still be in the dark about all this. _Damn it._

The doctor follows Sam's eye line, confused by the look on the young boys face. He then too sees what Sam is staying at.

"You're brother sure has a lot of cuts and scars, what is it you said he did for a living?" The doctor asks.

"Huh....oh...um, he's a mechanic." Sam falters, but he doesn't know what else to say.

"Come on Sammy, don't do this. The job is dangerous, we get scraps all the time. This isn't....Sam....Dad's up, go see dad." Dean says, trying desperately to hold his panic in check. But it's pointless. No one can hear hear him.

"The cuts on your brother's arms...the ones your staring at..." The doctor starts.

"What?" Sam asks, finally looking up at the doctor.

"Those cuts...they uh...they almost seem self-inflicted. Now, it's not really my place. I'm sure you have bigger things to be concerned about. But if...if there are bigger things going on with your brother, there are always counsellors, or support groups I could recommend." The doctor concludes.

Dean is shaking is head the whole time, repeating "no". over and over again. He can't believe this is happening. He never wanted his brother to know, and especially not like this. His brother is never going to let him out of his sight now, he's going to suffocate him.

"Thanks doc, but I'm sure they are just cuts and scraps from the job. My brother can be a little intense sometimes." Sam replies, trying to play it cool. But in reality, he doesn't know what to think. The demon said there was something else Dean was hiding from him, could this be it?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push where I don't belong. I just wanted you to know." The doctor says, clearly a little uncomfortable.

"Go see Dad! God, what are you doing Sam! Please." Dean pleads as his breathing starts to pick up. No matter what happens, there will be no-one to talk him out of a panic attack. So Dean needs to stay calm.

"I need to see my dad. Thanks doc, I'll uh...just...let me know if there's any change." Sam says in a rush, not sure how to describe the feeling in his gut. Something's off. Something's wrong...besides the obvious.

Sam quickly leaves the room, not waiting for the doctor's response. The doctor has to be wrong, Sam thinks. Dean wouldn't do something like that to himself. He knows Dean shuts himself off, and doesn't allow himself to deal with the issues. And Dean does have some big issues that he should work through, but is choosing to ignore. But he would....he couldn't....why would he do that do himself?

Sam soon finds himself in his father's room. He's so happy to see his father sitting up in his bed and awake. Tears sting his eyes, but this time they are happy tears. He knows his father is still going to need a lot of recovery; his arm's broken, and they had to remove a bullet from his leg. That one was hard to explain. But hiss dad is going to be alright, and that's what matters.

"Dad." Sam breaths out, so relieved.

"Sammy." John replies as he sees his youngest son standing in the door way. "Glad to see at least one of the Winchesters on still mobile."

"Dad" Sam repeats as he lowers his head. He wants to be happy, happy his father is alive and well. But his first reaction to see his father didn't last long. He's now back to worrying about his brother. He can't get the images out of his head. Of the demon praying on his brother, of the crash or of the current condition Dean's in.

"Sam, he's going to pull through this. He's strong." John says, emotionless.

Sam wants to laugh. Those words should be comforting, but not from John. Not from someone that's told them to suck it up, and that emotions are weakness. Sam just shakes his head.

"The doctors...fucking doctors don't think he's going to make. Of course they didn't really come right out and say it. If, that's what they said, if. I mean...god, aren't they supposed to be reassuring and tell you want you want to hear. Like, 'son, I know it looks bad, but I have every faith that your brother's going to pull through this...he's a fighter.' Well, I guess the doc did say Dean was a fighter, because if he wasn't the doc though he'd be dead right now." Sam chokes out the last of his ramble as the tears start to run down his cheek.

"And I haven't even begun to fill out any of our paper work...I don't know what to do Dad. It's like...his heart attack all over again. This fucking sucks dad." Sam feels the tears continue to fall, and he knows it's wrong. Wrong to cry in front of their father but he can't help it.

"Come here." John says, motioning Sam to take a seat in the chair by the foot of his bed.

Sam knows he shouldn't be crying, and he's angry at himself. He wipes the tears from his face as he approaches the chair. He takes a seat, desperately wanting a father right now, but assuming he's probably going to get a drill sergeant.

"All right, here. Give 'em my insurance." John says as he opens up his wallet and takes out a card. He hands it to Sam.

Sam wants to scream, maybe at himself. Why should he expect anything different. _Sure, let's just ignore the large elephant in the room that is our emotions, drill sergeant dad...or drill sergeant John...what's more distant you jackass._

Instead of making a scene, Sam takes the card from John. He then reads the name on the card. If his father wants to play it this way, fine. He's used to it. He's been on the road with Dean for a year now, he knows how this thing works.

"Elroy McGillicuddy?" Sam asks, wondering how his father and Dean came up with all these random names.

"And his two loving sons. So...what else did the doctor say about Dean?" John asks.

Sam is surprised, he almost thought his father didn't care. But maybe it's just like Dean, if you don't talk about it...they think maybe it will go away.

"Nothin'. Look, since the doctors won't do anything...then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know...I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him." Sam says, suddenly confused. _Where did that come from?_

"We'll look for someone." John replies, obviously missing the confusion on his son's face.

"Yeah." Sam can't think anymore, he doesn't know what else to say.

"But Sam...I don't know if you're gonna find anyone." John says, coldly. He wants to be the supportive father in this moment, he knows that's what Sam needs...but he can't.

"Why not? I found that faith healer before." Sam replies, trying to remain calm. He wants to freak out on his father, about so many things...not just the current issue. But he can't, not now...not when his brother is just...

"Well, that was one in a million." John states.

"So what? What, do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" Sam replies, getting a little more frustrated.

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone." John says, hoping his son will believe him. And after a moment, Sam nods. "Where's the Colt?"

"Your son is dying, and you're worried about the Colt?" Sam spits out, no longer wanting to be civil with his father.

"We are hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card." John says, stern and emotionless.

"It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83." Sam states, feeling emotionally drained and he knows it's pointless to get in his father's face right now.

"All right, you've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside." John states, hating himself for the job he feels he needs to do. The role he feels he needs to fill.

"I already called Bobby. He's like...an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place." Sam replies.

"All right, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and you bring it back to me, and you watch out for hospital security." John continues, in his military...uncaring nature.

"I think I got it covered." Sam replies, just as coldly as he gets up to leave.

"Hey." John calls out, getting Sam's attention.

Sam sighs, he can't take much more of his father right now. He just needs to get himself away from this hospital. Away from this pain building inside his chest. But Sam still stops and turns to face his father.

"Here. I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick 'em up for me." John says as he passes Sam the note.

Sam is hesitant, but takes the list from his father. He reads over the first few items.

"Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?" Sam asks.

"Protection." John states.

Sam goes to leave but stops by the door. There are so many things he wants to bring up about the other night. So many things the demon said. Things he said to Dean, and things he said to himself. So once again, Sam turns to look at his father, opting for the less painful route.

"Hey, Dad? You know the demon...he said he had plans for me and children like me. You have any idea what he meant by that?" Sam asks. He wants to ask about his brother, but he knows those topics will only make him angry. And Sam really doesn't want to get banned from the hospital just yet.

"No, I don't." John state.

Sam nods, not sure if he actually expected to get anything from his father. So Sam leaves the room, leaves his father alone.

John just sits there, unaware that his oldest son is in the room, staring at him.

"Well, you sure know somethin'" Dean states. His arms folded across his chest.

Dean doesn't remember all of what happened in the cabin, it's all a little fuzzy at the moment. And Dean gets the feeling he doesn't want to remember the words the demon spoke to him, or anything else that might have happened. So Dean is fine with the gap in his memory, but he knows it's probably not permanent. Why would he be so lucky.

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It takes Sam a couple hours to get to Bobby's. The trip is kind of a blur, his mind completely numb and shut down. But not numb enough to be unaware of the tears that ran down his face about an hour into his trip. He didn't allow himself to completely breakdown, but he didn't stop the silent tears from running down his face for a good twenty minutes.

Sam finally finds himself at Bobby's. Both of them staring at what's left of the Impala, both in awe. The right side of the car is completely destroyed.

"Oh, man. Dean is gonna be pissed." Sam finally speaks, not really knowing what else to say so he just states the obvious.

"Look, Sam...this just ain't worth a tow. I say we empty the trunk and sell the rest for scrap." Bobby replies as they begin to look over the car.

Sam takes out his laptop, but it's completely smashed. This is all unbelievable. Everything is destroyed. It's all happening too fast.

"No. Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better, he's gonna wanna fix this." Sam states, trying to keep his emotions in check. Bobby doesn't need this. Doesn't need Sam breaking down.

"There's nothing to fix. The frame's a pretzel, the engine's ruined...barely any parts worth salvagin'." Bobby continues as he walks around the car.

"Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just gonna give up on..." Sam can't finish, he can't keep talking about this. It's all too hard.

Bobby watches Sam for a moment, and he feels his heart break. He's always felt so close to Sam and Dean, so he hates what has happened to them. So he won't push.

"Okay. You got it." Bobby replies.

"Here. Dad asked if you could get this stuff for him." Sam says as he passes Bobby the note that his father gave him earlier.

Bobby looks at the list in his hand, and now he's confused. Why would John need all this stuff?

"What's John want with this?" Bobby asks.

"Protection from the demon." Sam replies as he walks towards the trunk of the car. He notices that Bobby is looking at him stangely. "What?"

"Nothin'. It's just, uh..." Bobby doesn't know how to say this. He doesn't really know what happened with the demon. He hasn't really felt comfortable asking. It's a little too early.

"Bobby. What's going on?" Sam asks, now at the trunk. He was completely ready to just get the Colt, wait for Bobby to get this stuff, and get back to the hospital. But now...

"Nothing. I'm sure it's nothing." Bobby replies quickly. He knows how much Sam and John used to fight before Sam left for Stanford, so he really doesn't want to be the reason they start yet another fight.

"Bobby if something's going on, please just fucking tell me. I can't...Dean's just...I can't keep doing this Bobby. He can't keep doing this to us. So if he's lying to me, if he's keeping something from me...can you please tell me." Sam doesn't know if he feels like yelling some more at Bobby, even though none of this is Bobby's fault, or if he feels like breaking down into gut wrenching sobs, because none of this is fair.

Bobby can tell that Sam is going through some many things at the moment, and it kill him. He really doesn't want to be the one to tell him this.

"Sam, you gotta take a breath. Because I'm not going to have you keelin' over on me, alright. So just calm the fuck down, and I'll tell ya. I'll tell ya if you promise not to freak out." Bobby states, trying to be strong for the both of them.

"I'm already freaking out here Bobby. God, I can't..." Sam needs to take a deep breath, and when he does...he feels a little bit better. But barely.

Bobby takes a deep breath. Everything way too crazy.

"Alright, let's go inside for a bit. I'm sure you could use some coffee." Bobby finally says, walking towards Sam.

"Alright, sounds good Bobby." Sam lets Bobby lead him into the house. He doesn't fight it. He knows he needs to relax, breath.

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Back at the hospital, John was able to convince a nurse to let him get out of his room. He's now sitting in his son's room, and he's hit with so many emotions that he doesn't know what to do with them. So he just stays quiet, and tries to shut they all out. Waits for Sam to return.

Dean stands in the far corner, watching his father. He feels completely helpless, and the anger rises in his chest. He doesn't understand his father. If he was in his position, he'd be freaking out right now. Not cold, just sitting there, doing nothing.

"Come on, Dad. You gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything? Aren't you even gonna say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything." Dean stops a moment, feeling tears build up in his eyes. And it actually feels a little nice to get this off his chest. But he's not stupid, he knows he'd never do it if people could see and hear him.

"I've given everything I've ever had. And now, you're just gonna sit there, and you're gonna watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?" Dean wipes his face. Not really sure why, it's not like his father can see if he cries or not.

John sniffles, trying to hold back the tears that start building up in his eyes. Dean freezes and look over at his father. Okay, it's not exactly what he wanted to happen. But he can't really feel bad, he knows his big speech had nothing to do with this...his father can't hear him.

"Doctors say you can't hear me, that's it's pointless to talk to you, but..." John stops, he doesn't do this. Neither of them do...but it seems when no one can hear you, people do things that they don't do around people.

"You know if you were awake I wouldn't be saying all of this...or I guess maybe I would. You're brother seems very keen on having us have a little heart-to-heart or else he'll kick my ass. I don't really blame him I guess." John falters, tearing his eyes away from his unconscious son's body.

Dean doesn't understand, what is his father talking about. He feels the tears starting to build up in his eyes again. Their father never did this. Hell, he never did anything like this until Sam started pushing. But he doesn't understand what Sam has to do with his father opening up to an unconscious son. Most be something to do with what the demon said, which Dean still can't remember it all.

"What the demon said was cruel and unkind, and not at all...I'm not disappointed in you son. Nothing you could ever do would make me disappointed in you. You've sacrificed so much for this family, you've...you've held us together through so much." John continues, tears finally making it down his face.

Dean feels the tears start to run down his face as well, and he doesn't feel like wiping them away. He feels a weird weight on his chest. The memories of the other night pushes at him. So he just shakes his head, he doesn't want to hear this.

"Please, stop. Don't do this Dad. This isn't you. Just stop, I'm okay, well...I'm not okay, clearly. But you don't have to do this. I don't want to hear it, please." Dean turns his back on his face as the tears continues to stream down his face.

Sure, Dean could leave the room, there is nothing keeping him here. But he can't leave, he doesn't really want to leave. This mood in his father is so rare that he needs to see it, he needs to experience it. So he takes a deep breath and turns back to his father. It's so hard not to just break down, so he lets the tears run silently down his face.

"But I need to tell you that the rest of what he said...about me knowing...that was the truth. And I'm so sorry, I should have been there for you, I shouldn't have just... I know I've been...well, not much of a father since Mary died, and I'm so sorry." John stops, tears streaming faster down his face. He can't talk anymore, so he just cries.

Dean continues to shake his head, tears still running down his face. He didn't want that to be true, he didn't want his father to know. Why? Why is all this happening? But what happens next confuses Dean, he prays for a distraction, and he gets one. Dean hears an eerie noise coming form the hallway.

"What is that?" Dean asks, finally wiping the tears from his face.

Dean moves towards the door, and suddenly sees a ghost-like figure rush past him. He's shocked, and turns to his father. John is still sitting there, crying.

"I take it you didn't see that." Dean says quickly, as he rushes out of the room.

Dean quickly starts to hate the distraction. He's completely useless like this. He couldn't save the girl, she just died. He couldn't do anything to stop it. Dean hates this feeling. Completely hates it.

Dean numbly walks towards his room, but finds it empty. How long was he gone? Obviously long enough for his father to compose himself and get out of his room. Dean feels like just collapsing, but for some reason he just stands in the doorway and stares at himself.

Sam then walks past him, clearly heading to his father room. Dean quickly follows, ignoring the looks of anger and determination on his brother's face. He needs to talk, and he really wants his brother to be able to hear him.

"Sammy, tell me you can freakin' hear me man. There's somethin' in the hospital. Now you gotta bring me back and we've gotta hunt this thing. Sam!" Dean shouts as they enter their father's room.

Sam clearly doesn't hear his brother as he enters his father's room. John is back in his bed, and looks up when he sees Sam enter. He's confused, Sam is usually overly chatty, but now....nothing.

"You're quiet." John states.

Sam shakes his head, trying to compose himself but he can't. So he walks over to his father's bed and slams the bag down.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" Sam shouts.

"What are you talkin' about?" John asks, obviously confused.

"That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you, and having some stupid macho showdow!" Sam yells,

Dean doesn't know what's happening, but he doesn't like all the yelling. Why is everything blowing out of control. He can't think, he doesn't know what's happening. He shouldn't even be here, this is fucked.

"I have a plan, Sam." John states coldly. Clearly he's pushed all his emotions that he showed early away, deep and deep beneath the walls his put up the year his wife died.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!" Sam continues to yell. He doesn't care anymore. Let them kick him out of the hospital.

"No, no, no. Guys, don't do this!" Dean pleads, knowing it's pointless.

John talks over Dean, and continues his shouting match with Sam. Both unaware of the pain they are causing Dean.

"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean." John shouts.

"How? How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession!" Sam shouts, he doesn't care anymore. He knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows how much Dean would hate this, but well...Dean's not around.

But Dean is around, and he's getting frustrated. Mainly at himself. Whoever had the bright idea to let Dean have an outer-body experience is definitely on the top of Dean's hated list. This is just cruel to inflict onto a person.

"Come on, guys, don't do this!" Dean shouts, knowing it's pointless.

Dean knows hospital policy just as well as the rest of his family. He knows it won't be much longer before some nurse or doctor is in this room wondering what the hell is going on. And since Sam is clearly no longer a patient, he can definitely get kicked out. And Dean doesn't think he can handle Sam not being around, even if his brother can't hear him.

"It's funny, you know what, I thought this was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" John continues to yell at his son, uncaring as to who might hear them.

Dean is really starting to freak out. It's bad enough that they are yelling at each other, but do they have to yell about demons. His family will be locked away in the loony bin before he even wakes up, if...

"It was possessing you Dad, I would've killed you too!" Sam can't believe his father, he can't have this conversation.

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now!" John knows he shouldn't have said it, but in the heat of the argument, it's hard to filter yourself.

"Shut up, both of you!" Dean shouts, but is still ignored as Sam talks over him.

"Got to hell." Sam says, no longer yelling. He doesn't know how to react to that. His anger is boiling over inside him, but his father's comment also makes him want to cry.

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" John continues, not caring about the state is youngest son is in.

"I said, 'Shut up'!" Dean shouts as he knocks over a glass of water on John's bedside table. The glass falls to the ground, and shatters, water spilling everything.

Sam and John go silent, both staring at the water in shock.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother." Dean says with a smirk, but the smile soon fades from his lips as a sharp pain stabs him in the chest.

John and continue to stare at the broken glass, unaware of what's happening to Dean. Dean suddenly falls to his knees, the pain becoming nearly unbearable. Memories of the cabin start rushing back, everything at once that Dean barely understands what anything means. He can't keep anything. Once the memories are gone, he can't remember what he just saw. His body then begins to flicker, almost as if he isn't real, almost like a ghost.

"What is it?" Dean says through the pain.

Several doctors rush past the room, which draws John's attention away from the glass.

"Something's goin' on out there." John says, gesturing for Sam to leave the room.

Sam takes the cue and leaves. He follows the doctors, and quickly realizes that they are entering his brother's room.

"No, no, no, please." Sam chants as he rushes to his brother's room.

Tears fill Sam's eyes at the sight that greets him when he gets to the doorway of his brother's room. The doctors are using a defibrillator on Dean, trying to find a pulse.

"All clear." A doctor shouts.

"Clear." A nurse confirms before shocking Dean, but he is still flatlining.

"No." Sam cries as tears roll down his cheek. His brother can't die, he just can't. Sam doesn't think he can live through that.

"Still no pulse." The nurse informs the doctor.

"Okay, let's go again. 360." The doctor states.

"Charging."

"All clear."

"Clear."

The nurse shocks Dean again, but nothing happens. "Still no pulse. Clear." She shocks him again, and nothing.

Dean slowly walks up behind Sam to see the doctors and nurses working on him. His brother crying in front of him. He wants to be able to comfort his brother, but he knows his hand would probably go right through him. Before he can dwell too much on that, his attention is drawn back to his body. The ghost-like figure his saw earlier is hovering over his body.

"You get the hell away from me. Stay back!" Dean shouts as he walks into the room, towards his bed.

"No change. I'm starting CPR." The doctor says as he starts compression on Dean's chest.

"I sad 'Get back'!" Dean yells.

Dean's voice echoes slightly in the room, and Sam stops crying. He's not sure if he was losing his mind, or if he really just heard his brother's voice.

Dean, unaware of the change in his brother, continues towards the creature in front of him. He grabs onto it, but is then thrown into the wall. The creature then leaves the room quickly. Dean rushes out into the hallways, trying to find it, but it's gone.

"We have a pulse. We're back in sinus rhythm." The nurse states as the machines start registering Dean's pulse.

Sam backs away from the room and into the hallways, he's relieved his brother's okay. But he still can't shake this weird feeling he has.

Dean approaches his brother, and is glad he's no longer crying.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm gettin' that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it. I can kill it." Dean says calmly, feeling a lot better. Having a hunt always makes things better. Pushes everything else in the background, unseen.

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Dean finds himself back in his room, defeated. Two people now, two he couldn't save. He thought this hunt would be a nice distraction but it isn't. The truth of the situation is a little unsettling. But at least now he has someone to talk to, Tessa.

The reality of his situation is pretty clear to Dean, but he wants to deny it for as long as he can. His family as already been through so much, and this will just devastate them. And sure, there have been moments where Dean thought the end would be nice and peaceful, finally getting to rest. But he doesn't want to die.

Dean doesn't know how long he's just standing in his room, silent. But soon Sam enters the room, carrying a paper bag.

"Hey. I think maybe you're around, and if you are...don't make fun of me for this, but, um...there's one way we can talk." Sam says as he sets the bag next to Dean's bed.

Dean approaches his brother, hoping for good news. There are so many things he wants to say to his brother. But then Sam pulls out a Ouija board, and Dean just shakes his head.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me." Dean groans.

But still, Sam can't hear him. He walks into the middle of the room and sits down cross-legged. He sets up the board and places his fingers on the planchette.

"Dean?...Dean, are you here?" Sam asks, hoping and praying that this works.

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party." Dean says as he rolls his eyes, but takes a seat across from Sam. "All right, Sam. This isn't gonna work."

Dean takes a deep breath and places his fingers on the other side of the planchette. He may voice his sarcasm about the matter, but he really does hope that this works. He wants to be able to talk to his brother, especially if this is the last chance to do so. Dean wills everything he has into the planchette under his finger tips, and moves it to the word "Yes". As he does this, Sam's eyes light up, and Dean is shocked.

"I'll be damned." Dean exclaims, a smile spreads across his face.

"It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." Sam says, relieved.

"Damn straight." Dean replies as he begins to move the planchette to different letters on the board.

"Dean, what? H...U...Hunt? Are you hunting?" Sam asks as Dean moves the planchette to the word "Yes." "Dean, it's in the hospital, what are you hunting...do you know what it is?"

Dean wants to laugh. Same old Sammy, always getting ahead of himself. But he can't answer all his questions right now, not like this.

"One question at a time, dude." Dean says with a smile.

"What is it?" Sam asks.

Dean takes a deep breath before moving the planchette again as he speaks.

"I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, their time is just up." Dean says, moving the letters to R-E-A and P before he can tell Sam has figured it out.

"A reaper. Dean? Is it after you?" Sam asks, feeling a panic growing in his chest.

He watches as the planchette moves to the word "Yes." Sam feels tears stinging at his eyes. It is so much like the last time, that it scares Sam.

"If it's here naturally...there's no way to stop it." Sam states, trying to remain calm and collected. Sure, he can't see his brother, but he's assuming that Dean can see him. So he refuses to cry.

"Yeah, you can't kill death." Dean replies, feeling a similar pain in his chest. He avoids looking at his brother, he doesn't want to see the pain.

"Man...you're, um..." Sam doesn't know what to say, he feels his throat burning as his body tries to force the emotions out of his body.

"I'm screwed, Sam." Dean replies, knowing his brother still can't hear him. He stares at the board on the floor, knowing it would take way too long to explain everything he wants to say to his brother. Why? Why can't he just wake up?

"No...no, no, no. There's gotta be a way. There's gotta be a way. Dad'll know what to do." Sam says in a rush, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Sam quickly gets off the floor and leaves the room. Dean wants to follow him, but he gives his brother the space. He knows this must be hard on him. He lived through the wreck of a brother, Sam was after losing Jessica. Dean can't imagine how Sam will take loosing him.

Sam quickly walks down the hall, wiping at his face as tears leak out of his eyes. He doesn't want to be crying when he talks to his dad. His still pissed at him. But when he gets to his father's room, it's empty.

Sam doesn't know if he should be pissed or relieved, as tears race down his face. He looks around the room, just to be safe.

"Dad?" Sam chokes out, hoping his father isn't just hiding in the bathroom. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

So Sam collapses onto the chair and tries to pull his emotions back, unaware of what his father is doing floors below him. Sam just continues to let the tears run silently down his face. He can't think, not yet. He can't lose Dean, he just can't.

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After a couple minutes Sam composes himself enough to find their father's journal. When he does he heads back to Dean's room. He doesn't take the time to use the board, still on the floor. Instead he just announces his presence, hoping Dean's still around. He then starts reading about Reapers, keeping the pages open in case Dean too wanted to read them.

Sam was unaware that the pages gave Dean exactly what he needed. He was also unaware that Dean left the room in pursuit of his friend Tessa, who Dean now knew was a Reaper. But the most trouble of it all, he was still unaware of his father's actives; down in the boiler room, talking to the demon. Unaware that their argument earlier struck a little too close to home. Unaware that their father cares so much.

After what seems like decades, Sam gives up. There is nothing, nothing in the book to save Dean. And Sam just wants to trash the whole room, or kill something, or completely breakdown. Because none of what's happening is fair. So despite the fact that he's not sure if his brother's around, he takes the chance. Knowing that if he's brother is around, he'd probably tease him, but hey, he can't hear him, so....

"Dean, are you here?...I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep tryin', all right? As long as you keep fightin'." Sam laughs, only to stop himself from crying. He really doesn't want this to be that speech. The last words he says to his brother. But he's not lying, he's not going to give up. He only prays his brother holds out long enough.

"I mean, come on, you can't leave me here alone with Dad, we'll kill each other, you know that." Sam's smile fads as the tears build in his eyes. This isn't what he wanted, but there's no stopping it now. If he's brother wakes up, Sam's going to sleep for a week...that's how exhausted he is.

"Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just startin' to be brothers again....Can you hear me?" Sam asks, not really sure if he expects anything. So instead, he just settles down in his chair and waits. He's not sure what to do next.

Meanwhile, Dean finds himself at the end of his rope. Tessa, the reaper, wants to take him away. She tells him it's his time, that he doesn't have to suffer anymore. And Dean just wants to laugh. Sure, it sounds nice, and he'd love not to suffer anymore. The memories of so many things still trying to tear him apart. But he's still thinking of someone higher than himself, someone he's put above himself for most of his life...Sam.

"My brother...he could die without me." Dean says, his own tears building.

"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. Nothing you can do about it." Tessa says as Dean moves away from her. "It's an honorable death...a warrior's death."

"I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyway." Dean replies, trying to be witty but not feeling it.

"That's funny. You're very cute." Tessa says, in a comforting voice. Not wanting to upset Dean more than he already is. She can see behind his walls, and know the pain he is carrying.

"There's no such thing as an honorable death. I mean, my corpse is gonna rot in the ground and my family is gonna die..." Dean falters, trying so hard to keep his emotions under wraps. "No. I'm not going with you. I don't care what you do."

"Well...like you said, there's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years, disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent." Tessa states.

"What are you saying?" Dean asks, emotions filling up dangerously fast. That can't be right, he must have heard it all wrong.

"Dean...how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on. And you're about to become one...the same thing you hunt." Tessa replies, her tone still remaining calm.

Dean just stares at her, speechless. He then slowly sits down beside her, he can't think anymore. His tears are trying to drown him but he refuses to let them fall.

"It's time to put the pain behind you." Tessa finally says, breaking the silence.

"And go where?" Dean asks softly.

"Sorry. I can't give away the punchline...Moment of truth. No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be?" Tessa asks, hoping Dean follows her. She can feel the pain radiating from the man next to her.

Dean has so many conflicting emotions running through his mind. Putting the pain behind him sounds so...peaceful. Waking up will only bring more pain, but then again...Tessa said he's not getting back into his body so, it's not really a fact.

Before Dean can figure out what the hell he's going to do, before he can even form words, the lights in the room begin to flicker. Both Tessa and Dean get off the bed, both confused.

"What are you doin' that for?" Dean asks, not understanding what's happening.

"I'm not doing it." Tessa replies, just as confused.

Before Dean can think of another question, or a snark remark, an enormous cloud of black smoke begins to come through the air vent.

"What the hell?" Dean asks, still so very confused. Tessa, however, seems to know exactly what's happening.

"You can't do this! Get away!" Tessa shouts.

"What's happening?!" Dean demands, but Tessa is clearly not paying attention.

Tessa screams as the smoke forces itself into her mouth, and into her body. Once all the smoke is rammed down her throat, she turns to face Dean. Her eyes now yellow.

"Today's you're lucky day kid." Tessa says with smirk as she places her hand on his head.

The slightest touch sets Dean bolting back into his body. The pain is intense as Dean is forced back into his body.

Now in Dean's hospital room, Dean awakes quickly. Gasping and chocking on the tube in his throat. Sam jumps at the sound of his brother and is instantly at his brother's side.

"Dean?...Help! I need help!" Sam shouts towards the hall.

The next hour or so is a complete blur for both of them. Doctors running everywhere, running test after test. Neither of the boys knows what happen. Sam is relieved, but has so many questions. He wants to cry, but happy tears this time.

Dean on the other hand is completely confused by all the commotion and starts to wonder what he's missed. He doesn't remember a thing, and apparently his missed a lot. Last thing he remembers clearly is getting his father to the cabin, everything with the demon is still a little fuzzy. But the doctors seem to think all that will come back to him in time, of course the doctors don't know what it is that Dean's blanking out. And Dean has a feeling it's something he really doesn't want to remember fully. Why does he have to have so many of these situations in his life?

Dean barely notices his arm though, key word barely. He catches a glimpse during a test and almost has a panic attack right there. But at least he has some time to think. Time to formulate a reason he has perfect little cuts on his arms.

But soon, everything dies down. Dean is back in his bed, and Sam is by his side. They get the news about Dean's condition from the doctor. Sam almost wants to feel bad for the doc, not being able to explain what happened. But he's still too relieved to care.

"I can't explain it. The edema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. And as I said, you're memory should come back to you. There is no brain damage what-so-ever. You've got some kind of angel watchin' over you." The doctor concludes.

"Thanks Doc." Dean replies softly, still a little too stunned. He hasn't had a lot of time to talk to his brother in all the chaos, he's only had time to get the footnotes of what has happened.

Once the doctor leaves, Dean turns to his brother. He needs to know what happened. But before Dean can ask his question Sam pounces.

"What happened to your arm?" Sam asks as he points to the cuts on Dean's arm.

"What?" Dean asks, as he follows the trail to find out Sam's pointing at his self-inflicted cuts. He feels a panic rising in his chest, because he can't just come out and say that. He needs to lie.

"I know they didn't come from the crash, or anthing the demon did, they are already healing. And as far as I know you haven't gotten hurt during a hunt recently. And the doctor says he thought they might be self-inflicted, but I defended you to him. But then it all just got me thinking about what the demon said." Sam rambles.

Dean just stares at his brother, not sure how to react or what to say.

"What did the demon say?" Dean asks, trying to buy himself some time.

"You don't remember? You seemed pretty freaked out about it at the time." Sam says, coldly. He doesn't want some Dean Winchester witty smart-ass bullshit right now. If the doctor's right, if his gut is right, then this is huge.

"My memories still a little fuzzy, you heard what the doc said. Thankfully I don't have any brain damage so I'm sure I'll get the memories back of what I can only assume was an amazing evening." Dean replies, sarcasm clearly in his voice.

"Just...tell it's not true. Because...damn it Dean. I can't..." Sam doesn't even know what to say.

"Come on dude, you really think I would do something like that? I'm not a fucking girl. Sure, I have a lot of shit to work though, but I'm not going to go around carving out my pain. We have been in a couple tight spots lately, or have you forgotten. Salvation, and then Meg. I was thrown around a lot, it's not that big of a deal that I got a little scratched up. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but things were a little crazy, unless you've forgot all about us pulling an all nighter that lasted for days until I was forced into a coma when some crazy-truck driving possessed bastard ran us off the road." Dean snaps. Dean doesn't even want to think about what the Impala must look like right now.

"No, I didn't forget, I'm sorry. I'm just... Stress man, you...you almost died Dean. And I can't...I don't ever want to feel like that again. I just want to sleep for like, days, you have no idea. So I snapped, let people put their own conclusions in my head. I'm sorry. You still could have told me when it happened. One of those cuts looks like they couldn't have done with some stitches." Sam says softly, not wanting to fight with his brother. If there is something more going on, Dean will tell him...eventually.

The room goes deadly silent, which makes both boys uncomfortable. Dean can't stand it. He can't stand the constant pushing, and how his brother just seems to always get the answer without Dean ever letting him in on his own terms. So he falls back on old habits, that rarely seem to fail. Stick to the job.

"So you said a reaper was after me?" Dean asks. That is all Sam really had time to tell his brother before more doctors and nurses harassed them. But now, it looks like they finally have some time to talk.

"Yeah." Sam states. So many things swirling through his mind. So many things he needs to say, to ask. He's still not sure he believes Dean's story about what happened to his arm, but that still doesn't help his dilemma. Too many thoughts. Too many things he wants to talk about. Too many things he wants to say to his big brother.

"How'd I ditch it?" Dean asks.

"You got me. Dean, you really don't remember anything?" Sam asks, a little surprised. He knows for a fact that an invisible, spiritual part of his brother was walking around the hospital. And maybe it's a good thing he doesn't remember. But then again, the could say that about a lot of things. Sam dreads Dean's first actually sleep, because he can only guess that that would be the time his memories will come flooding back to him.

"No. Except this pit in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong." Dean explained, without really explaining anything. He couldn't remember this conversation he had with his brother. He can't remember a thing. He thinks there a good chance that Sam believes his story about his arm, but of course he doesn't remember witnessing Sam's first reaction to it. He also remember nothing about his father's confession, which is unfortunate, because his words may help once the memories resurface.

Before Sam can ask more, because he really is worried about his brother, for a whole pile of things; their father knocks on the door. Dean and Sam look towards their father as he enters the room.

"How you feelin' dude?" John asks Dean. He heard about his son waiting up, but this is the first time he's been able to see him.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive." Dean replies, so many emotions playing out in his response. He's relieved his father is okay. But there is still this weird feeling, and it's getting stronger now that their father is around. Dean hasn't had the time to really talk to Sam about what happened the night at the cabin, but he can tell by the static in the room that whatever happened was huge.

"That's what matters." John replies. John is clearly exhausted, and Dean really begins to wonder what he's missed.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asks, the hostility and anger already apparent in his voice.

"I had some things to take care of." John replies, an edge to his voice.

Dean can tell that he missed something even bigger now, if his father and brother can't be civil around each other, even now.

"Well, that's specific." Sam says, not even trying to hold back the sarcasm.

"Come on, Sam." Dean pleads. He hasn't been up for more than a few hours and his family is already at each others throat.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam asks, his anger making it easy to ignore his brother at this moment. He doesn't want to, he knows how much fighting hurts his brother. But he needs to know.

"No." John states coldly.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam replies, trying so hard to hold his voice down. His thoughts screaming in his head.

Dean sighs, why should he expect any different. Everyone's been telling him he nearly died, but hey...let's just forget the last few days and go back to how things were: his brother and father not getting along. His disappointment is soon replaced by confusion as his father smiles sadly.

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fightin', I don't know what we're fightin' about. We're just buttin' heads. Sammy, I...I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?" John asks.

Sam's anger quickly disappear. He's rarely seen this side of his father, and he doesn't know how to react to it.

"Dad, are you all right?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired. Hey, Sam, would you mind, uh...would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?" John asks.

Sam is stunned for a moment, he wants to stick around but he just nods. Maybe John needs some time to talk to Dean. Maybe their father is finally going to cut the bullshit. Maybe Dean almost dying has snapped some sense into him.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Sam replies as he hesitantly leaves the room.

Tears begin to build in John's eyes as he watches Sam leave the room. Dean on the other hand is freaking out. What did he miss?

"What is it?" Dean asks, trying to remain calm.

"You know, when you were a kid...I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be...I'd be wrecked. And you'd...come up to me, and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you'd..." John's voice breaks as tears continue to build in his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall just yet. "...'It's okay, Dad.' Dean...I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean asks, he feels a weight building in his chest. Something is very very wrong.

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been sayin' that to you. You know, I put...I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once." A tear finally forces it's way out of John's eye, and down his cheek. But John doesn't want to break. He can't have the conversation he knows he should be having with his son. He doesn't have the time, and he hates himself for not being able to fix the all the things he messed up over the years. And he knows how much Sam wants him to talk to Dean about what happened that night at the cabin. But still, there is no time.

"I just want you to know...that I am so proud of you." John finishes, his bottom lip quivers as he fights everything he has not to break down.

Dean feels his own tears building, but he can't cry. He hates this feeling. And he's completely confused. Why is his father saying all this to him?

"Is this really you talkin'?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's really me." John says with a small, sad smile.

"Why are you sayin' this stuff?" Dean asks, feeling a familiar pain building in his chest.

John moves closer to him, and lays his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?" John says, ignoring the obvious. He hates what he has to do. And he's almost positive it's only going to make things worse for his son. But he has no other choice. His son is alive, that trumps everything else.

"Yeah, Dad, you know I will. You're scaring me." Dean says softly, tears still in his eyes.

"Don't be scared, Dean." John says as he down and begins to whisper into Dean's ear.

Dean's mind starts to panic and he wants to tell his father to shut the hell up. He doesn't want to hear this. His father talks about the demon, about Sam, and possible death. Dean doesn't want this. Why is his father doing this to him.

Once John is finished, he stands up. Dean doesn't know what to say. Both are holding back their tears. And soon, John nods sadly and just leaves the room.

Dean just sits there, he can't think. He needs to get out of here. He can't breath. Why? Why did his father put all that on him?

Dean actually thought the change in his father was... He can't think. It's too much.

Dean doesn't want to have a panic attack here in the hospital. It would cause questions, and it would definitely make Sam asks and push, and poke. So he forces himself to take a nice, deep breath. He needs to just calm down. Wait for his brother to come back, and go back to ignoring everything. He can wait. Wait to get out of this damn hospital before he goes after his father, gets more answers. He doesn't realize that that's never going to happen.

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Sam walks down the halls of the hospital with a cup of coffee in his hand. He's playing the scene over and over in his head, wondering what he must of missed. He's argued with his father the whole time Dean was unconscious, and dying. And now...

Sam passes John's room, expecting it to be empty. He's expecting his father to still be in Dean's room, hopefully taking his threat outside the cabin to heart, and having a conversation with Dean. But instead, he sees his father on the floor, not moving.

Sam freezes, not sure what's happening.

"Dad?" Sam calls out, but nothing happens.

The coffee cup falls from his grip as Sam runs into the room. Sam falls to his kneels in a panic, and when he can't find a pulse, he screams for help.

Everything happens in a blur, and Sam wishes he could have kept Dean in his room. But he knew that would be pointless.

Sam helps Dean to John's room, as the doctors work on their father. John is hooked up to several machines, and the doctors are beginning CPR. A nurse approaches them, intent on having them leave.

"No, no, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean insists. Eyes wild, as he watches the scene in front of him. So the nurse leaves him alone.

Both boys watch the scene unfold. Sam isn't able to speak. He doesn't understand what's happening, their father was fine. And now...he just stands next to his brother, and watches. He prays that their father pulls through this. His death would be too much.

"Okay, let's try again...an amp of atropine." A doctor yells out, over the commotion.

"Come on." Dean whispers, tears building in his eyes. Sam too has tears in his eyes. But neither of them look at each other, too concerned for their father.

"Okay. Stop compressions." A doctor orders.

"Come on, come on." Dean continues to repeat. Why are they stopping?

"Still no pulse." The nurse informs the room.

"Okay, that's it, everybody. I'll call it. Time of death...10:41 am." The doctor reads off his watch as everyone takes a step back from John.

"No, come on, please." Dean whispers, still talking to their father. He can't be gone.

Sam looks over at his brother, holding back his tears. This is going to destroy Dean, and he knows it. He places a hand on his brother's shoulder and feels the tremors. His brother isn't just slightly shaking in the attempt to hold everything back, but he's completely shaking...visibly.

"Come on Dean." Sam says soflty, wanted to get Dean away from the sight of their dead father.

Sam feels numb, but he knows he needs to step it up. He can't think about what just happened, he just can't. He needs to help his brother. He needs to act like the older brother, a strong soldier.

Sam pulls Dean backwards as Dean continues to shake, mumbling words that Sam can't quite make up. Dean's breathing starts to become out quick and loud.

"Come on Dean, let's...let's get you back to your room. You need some rest." Sam says, as he chokes down his tears. He can't cry now.

"No, no, no." Dean repeats as he rips away from his brother and stumbles into the wall next to him.

"Dean?" Sam asks, shocked. Dean's face is pale, tears running down his face.

He almost looks as pained and terrified as he did back in Lawrence, the first time Sam saw Dean nearly panic. But this...here, was much more. This wasn't seeing their mother again, after 22 years. This was witnessing another family member die.

"Can't...can't breath...please...Sammy?" Dean manages to say before sliding down the wall. He can't even try to breath, even if he wanted to calm down. He far too gone. He can't breath, he can't think. The image of there father, just lying there, lifeless, burned into his brain.

"Dean!" Sam shouts as he rushes next to his brother. "Come on Dean, it's okay. Just..."

Sam doesn't know what he could possibly say to help his brother. He can't find the words, because they would all be lies. And he can't hold back his tears anymore. He doesn't know what to do as he brother continues to hyperventilate.

"I need help! Please!" Sam shouts down the hall, towards the doctors he knows are still in his father's room.

He then puts a hand on his brother's knee, trying to give him comfort. Dean collapses onto the ground completely, trying to breath. He can't. He pulls his legs into his chest, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps. Nothing will ever help.

Two doctors and a nurse rush out of John's room to see Dean on the ground, and Sam knelt next to his body.

"You need to help him, he can't breath." Sam calls out, as he sees the doctors approach them.

"Give him some room." One of the doctors calls on as he kneels next to Dean.

The nurse walks over to Sam, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sam doesn't want to move, but he needs to let the doctors help him.

"We need to get him back to his room." The doctor informs the other doctor and the nurse.

"Son, can you hear me. We going to help you to your feet. Just relax, and let us help you." The first doctor informs Dean, as the other doctor kneels down on the other side of Dean.

Sam watches as the doctors get Dean back to his room, but the nurse asks him to stay out in the hallway as she asks him some questions. Sam watches as the doctors put a mask over his brother's face, telling his brother to let the air in.

"Is your brother prone to panic attacks?" The nurse asks.

"Uh...no, um...well, is he going to be okay?" Sam asks, taking his eyes off his brother. He wipes the tears from his face as he tries to stay focused on the nurse.

"The doctors are helping your brother, he's going to fine. Now the forms you filled out don't tell us much. Your brother doesn't seem to have a stressful job. But...we'll, we can understand that the death of your father is something hard to deal with." The nurse continues.

"Yeah, he um...he's been having some panic attacks lately, but nothing I couldn't talk him down from. Nothing this bad." Sam replies.

"We're only here to help sir, so if he needs anything, we have counsellors on site, or we can recommend the best psychiatrists in the state." The nurse informs Sam.

"Um...thanks, I uh..." Sam doesn't know what to say, he's fighting back the tears. He can't break, not now. "Thank you. I need...I have to make a phone call."

"Of course. The doctors will probably want your brother to rest. Panic attacks are pretty exhausting for the patient. And they've probably given him something to relax, and quiet possible sleep as well." The nurse says, smiling at Sam.

Sam nods, looking back at his brother. The nurse was right, the doctors give Dean a shot and quickly he falls asleep. The mask left on Dean's face.

Sam takes a deep breath, he needs help. He can't do this by himself. But the counsellors, doctors, and psychiatrists can't help them. He needs to call Bobby.

Sam walks down the hall, as he takes out his phone. He needs some air. He dials Bobby's number as he exits the hospital, and paces the hospital lot.

"Hello?" Bobby's voice finally comes through the phone.

Sam is caught off guard, and he needs to clear his throat to get ride of the lump. His emotions are on the brink. But he doesn't want to cry, he's afraid he could cry for days and he needs to get back to his brother. Knowing Dean, that shot won't keep him asleep for long.

"Uh...Hey Bobby." Sam finally says, pinching the bridge of his noise. He can't do this, he can barely speak. Too much has happened.

"Sam? That you?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah...it's me." Sam replies, he just needs to get Bobby hear without falling apart.

"Everything alright son?" Bobby asks, concern clearly in his voice.

At Bobby's words, tears roll down his cheeks. He doesn't want to speak, he knows Bobby will be able to hear the pain in his voice. He doesn't want to sound weak, but he can't stop the tears that are falling down his face.

"Sam? You still there." Bobby asks.

"Ya." Sam replies, not sure what else to say. Not sure if he can say much more.

"What happened? You're brother okay?" Bobby asks, clearly worried.

"He woke up...couple hours ago." Sam chokes out, he tries to get ride of the tears, but they keep coming.

"Sam, what's wrong? You sound like your crying. What happened?" Bobby asks. Sounds in the background of him moving around his house.

"Yeah...Bobby, something..." Sam's words are cut off, his throat is closing around his emotions. He feels like he can't breath, but not the same as his brother. He's not nearly a panic attack. He's nearly a breakdown. And he can't.

"Sam...I'm heading out. I can be there in a little over an hour if I break every speed record out there." Bobby replies, as he continues to move around his house.

"Please, I don't know what to do Bobby." Sam cries, fighting so hard not to just out right sob.

"Alright, I'm on my way. Whatever happened, we'll figure it out, all right?" Bobby says in a hurry.

"Thanks." Sam says, before hanging up the phone.

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Sam is sitting on a chair next to Dean's bed. He's exhausted, but he can't sleep yet. His brother has been sleeping for an hour, so Bobby should be here soon. Sam's gone completely numb after his near breakdown outside.

After a moment, Dean stirs. Which shouldn't really surprise Sam, but he really wishes Dean would just let himself rest. Let the drugs do what they are supposed to.

Dean moans as he stretches out in his bed. His eyes open next, and they soon look over the room widely.

"Dean?" Sam asks, hoping he won't just go right back into panic mode.

"Dean, please, don't. Don't...just calm down, it's okay." Sam say quickly, fearing the worst.

"What." Dean says softly, the mask still in place over his noise and mouth. His arm goes towards the mask, but Sam stops him.

"You had a full on panic attack, hyperventilated until you nearly passed. So...just let the mask help you, okay. I can't...you really scared me." Sam says, tears stinging his eyes yet again.

"Sorry." Dean mumbles, behind the mask.

"It's okay. Um...I called Bobby. He should be here soon. Doctors will probably want to keep you here a little longer after what happened. But...the car's at Bobby's...I mean, we can't start driving around again, but...Bobby will probably let us stay with him for a bit." Sam says, needed to be strong for his brother. He's had a little over an hour to process everything, Dean hasn't.

"What happened?" Dean says, his voice still muffled by the mask, but clearly a little stronger.

"Dean...we can talk about everything once you're better. Once we're clear of all these doctors. I think if you have another panic attack, there will be nothing I can do to stop them sending a counsellor in here for you to talk to."

"Counsellor?" Dean asks, clearly confused.

"You had a panic attack Dean, people don't just...I didn't say anything else, but they know that wasn't your first one." Sam says, hoping his brother doesn't freak.

"Oh, okay." Dean says, flatly.

Dean's tone is a little scary. Sam expected Dean to be either very sad, but trying to appear strong, or angry, or demanding. But not this.

"That's it?" Sam asks.

"What do you mean?" Dean finally reaches up and takes the mask off his face. "Don't need this thing."

Dean throws the mask aside and Sam cringes. Okay, so maybe the anger's about to come out. Sam really doesn't want Dean to panic again.

"Nothing, I just...we'll talk later okay, unless..." Sam really doesn't know if he handle talking now, but...

"No, we won't talk. Nothing to talk about. We'll go to Bobby, fix the car up, and hit the road. We've been in one spot for too long." Dean replies.

"Dean, we can't just...Dad's..." Sam feels the pain, and tears rising again.

"Don't." Dean warns. Pain clear in his voice as well.

"Dean. I don't...I'm so sorry. I can't even...I don't even know what to say." Sam says, tears building up dangerously.

"Good, because there is nothing to talk about." Dean replies coldly.

"Right, of course. Why would I expect anything different." Sam replies, a tear slowly rolling down his cheek. Sam quickly wipes it away, he doesn't want his brother to push him away but what else can he do now.

"Don't Sam, don't do this to me." Dean says, tears building up in his eyes.

"Do what? What am I doing?" Sam asks.

"When's the last time you've slept, you look... Maybe you should talk to the doctors, see what the deal is. If I can't get out of here, you should go get some rest. Go to Bobby's for the night, or get a motel room if you want to stay in town." Dean ignores Sam's questions.

"Dean..." Sam tries but Dean clearly doesn't want Sam talking.

"So...go on, get a doctor. I really don't want to spend another minute in this friggin' place. But if need be...so..." Dean doesn't know what else do say.

"Dean, I'm not going to just leave you here. I'll wait until you're ready to leave." Sam says, he can't believe his brother wants to push him away that much.

"You're not staying in that chair, you need some proper rest dude. You look worst them me." Dean says, plastering on a smile.

"You're unbelievable, you know. I'm not leaving, and that's it. I can't believe you'd rather me leave than talk about what's happened." Sam says, shaking his head. He really shouldn't be surprised, but he thought things were getting better. But now it seems they've back-tracked completely.

"I'm not...I just, you need some rest. Please." Dean feels his control slipping.

"Dad's gone Dean, and...fuck, it hurts so bad that I can barely feel anything besides this massive hole. I feel like all my internal organs have just been ripped out of my chest. And you're kicking me out of your room, without saying a thing. I know it's hard, but please, don't do this. Not after everything." Sam says, feeling more tears run down his face.

"Don't Sam, just...don't." Dean turns his head slightly on his pillow, taking his eyes off his brother. The pain building in his chest. They both lost something very important to them, their father. And Dean feels like a jackass for pushing Sam away, when clearly his brother is in just as much pain. But he can't talk about it, he just can't.

"Why? Why can't you just...don't do this Dean." Sam is desperate, he can't leave like this. He doesn't want to leave his brother alone. He can't.

"Leave Sam. Get some rest, or get me out of here and we can both get some rest." Dean replies, still not looking at his brother.

"Dean..." Sam is loosing and he knows it.

"Go!" Dean says, forceful.

"Dean, please, just..." Sam is once again cut off.

"Leave!" Dean shouts.

Dean finally looks at his brother, and Sam is shocked by the anger in his brother's face. Sam doesn't want to leave, he can't.

"Just go. I'll see you in the morning." Dean says, pulling his anger back. He doesn't want to get upset at his brother, but he can't have Sam in the room anymore. It's too hard.

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam says, doing the only thing he can. He gets up and leaves the room.

The second his brother is out of the room, Dean's walls crumble and the tears pour down his face. He starts to shake, and he can't hold it back anymore. It's too painful.

Outside the room, Sam hears Dean's sobs and his heart breaks. The noise isn't someone trying desperately to hold the sobs back, but the sound of someone not being able to, they are gut wrenching. Why couldn't his brother let him in? His own tears run faster down his face. Pain over everything that has happened to both of them, the lose they have both endured, and for the giant concrete wall that's between him and his brother.

Sam collapses against the wall next to the door to his brother's room, and slides down to the floor. He cries silently, not wanting his brother to hear him. Even though he's pretty sure his brother won't hear anything now. His brother is too far gone, and Sam actually knows exactly what the feeling is like for once.

"I'm so sorry." Bobby's voice breaks through Sam's thoughts.

Sam looks up, his vision blurry due to the tears that are still running down his face. Bobby kneels down next to him.

"I talked to a nurse, about what happened...about your daddy. I'm sorry Sam." Bobby says softly.

Sam desperately wipes at the tears on his face, but he can't stop them. Not now, it's too late.

"How's your brother?" Bobby asks.

Sam just shakes his head, and makes a small gesture towards the door next to him. Bobby looks towards the door, and then hears the sobs that are still coming from the room. Bobby then sits down completely on the floor next to Sam.

"You boys will stay with me for as long as you want, okay? I talked to a doctor, they want Dean to stay over night so they can keep an eye on him. They told me about his panic attacks. I'm...should I go in there, talk to him?" Bobby asks, but he knows he'll end up staying with Sam. He knows Dean just as well as Sam. Dean won't want anyone near him right now. He believes what's happening to him right now is weakness, but it's not. And Bobby feels his own tears stinging his eyes at the thought.

"No...he's, uh...I don't know what to do anymore Bobby." Sam says, the tears slowly down Sam's face, but not stopping completely.

"I know boy. But...nothing you can do tonight. Let's get you to a motel, you look like you could use some rest. Some food too I can imagine. Then we'll get you and Dean back to my place in the morning." Bobby says as he gets to his feet. Offering a hand to Sam.

Sam takes a deep breath, trying to get his bearings. He then grabs a hold of Bobby's hand, letting him help Sam to his feet. Bobby then pulls Sam into a hug. It's not a common thing for any of them, but Bobby has a feeling Sam needs it.

Sam holds on tightly, trying to draw from Bobby's strength. Trying to get the pain to stop. Sam soon realizes that he can't, and if he holds on any longer he's going to start sobbing against Bobby's shoulder. And he doesn't want to put that on Bobby. So he pulls away.

"Thank Bobby. I didn't know who else to call, every one is...god, why?" Sam asks, feeling the tears wanting to escape some more. Sam wipes his face clean, and forces the pain down.

"Don't worry, you boys are like family, you hear me? Now, come on. Let's get out of here, okay." Bobby tightly squeezes onto Sam's shoulder.

"Yeah, okay." Sam takes a step towards Dean's door, taking one last look inside the room.

Dean's back is to Sam, but he can still see the shakes, still hear the sobs. Sam wants to cry even harder now, but he pushes it away. He needs to be strong, needs to help Dean. He has no idea how, but can't just give up. Sam knows it's going to be hard, and he knows Dean's going to push that much harder against him. There is now a bigger pile of issues to tackle, and their father's death is something Sam too has to deal with, possible before he can even tackle any of Dean's.

Sam then follows Bobby out of the hospital, the sound of Dean's sobs stuck on repeat in Sam's brain. He's not sure if he'll be able to sleep. But getting out of the hospital will most likely help, Sam hopes. Then tomorrow, everything starts all over again.

**TBC**

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So sorry it took me so long to get this up, struggled with getting in the zone for this chapter. Hope you all like it.

Hope to get the next one up by latest Monday, or else it might be another week because of my work schedule. Next chapter won't be an episode, but the week spent at Bobby's.

**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

Thanks.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

lulu: Thanks for the review. Glad you're still enjoying the story, and that it's getting an emotional response from you. Hope you continue to enjoy it, and that you like this next chapter.

Thanks to tientije23, Wen1, moira4eku, rholou, for your kind reviews.

Nervous about this chapter, it was hard to write. Pretty much an excuse for a lot of angst filled conversations. This chapter is more focused on Sam, but I don't ignore Dean. Don't worry.

Side note: Edited this chapter my self. Finished the chapter late last night, and was up even later giving it a read through so that I could post it today (Wed.), instead of Friday. So any spelling, and/or grammar mistakes are all mine. Also partly due to the lack of sleep.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 13. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 13 - GRIEVING DOWNTIME**

Dean couldn't stop the tears, and felt so weak and stupid. His brother has left him hours ago. Ever since his brother left, Dean hasn't been able to stop the sobbing. The pain in his chest is unbearable as so many memories flood his mind. His father is gone, and now... Dean doesn't know how to function, there's too much. Dean feels like he's dying under the pressure, under everything his gone through, everything his lost, and everything that's been put on his shoulders.

The tears have dried up now, but Dean still can't stop shaking. This should be good, getting all the emotions out, but Dean just feels worst. When a nurse finally checks on him, around supper time, Dean is still shaking but is glad that there are not more tears to shed. He couldn't shed any more tears, even if he wanted to. The nurse voices her concerns, wanting to get a doctor. Worried Dean might be nearing another panic attack. But he was able to convince the nurse he was fine, just upset about his father; which wasn't a lie for once.

Dean refused to eat, and refused to sleep. He couldn't risk it, couldn't risk having a nightmare or another panic attack in this hospital. He doesn't want their help, and he especially doesn't want their pity. He can't talk to a shrink, or a counsellor. They wouldn't be able to help him. If he can barely talk to his brother about the pain he feels on a daily basis, why should he be able to talk to a completely stranger. Someone who could deem him crazy, or try to fix him by throwing a prescription at him.

The shaking stops a little after the nurse's first visit, and now Dean just sits in his hospital bed, completely numb. He just has to rebuild his walls. Sam would be back in the morning, and they would be out of here. Back to Bobby, fix the Impala, and then hit the road. That's all he could do. And in order to do that, he needed to rebuild his walls that seem to be crumpling around him when he's aorund his brother lately. He knows his brother is only concerned, but he just can't do this anymore. He can't be what Sam wants him to be. It's too hard.

But Dean's nurse wouldn't leave him alone. She keeps checking in, asking if he got any sleep, asking if he wanted anything to eat. It was about midnight when she finally took matters into her own hands and gave him a sedative. Dean tried to fight it, his body and his mind didn't want the rest. He didn't want to sleep, not here, not in this place. He thought he could shake it off, just like the last time. But the nurse must of giving him something new, or something stronger because soon he was out cold. Luckily, whatever they gave him, knocked him out completely which meant...no dreams.

Sam's day wasn't easy either. It was so hard not to just break down during the car ride to a motel with Bobby. He couldn't stop the tears, but he was able to keep the sobs at bay. He didn't want to put that on Bobby. Bobby has already done so much for him and his brother.

Once at a motel, Sam took a shower and that's when he allowed himself to completely break. He wasn't completely sure that the sound of the shower running completely drowned out his sobs, but he's sure that Bobby will give him his space. Just like he left Dean alone at the hospital, even thought they both wanted to comfort him.

Sam just needed this one moment, this one night to let everything crumble. He knew it was going to be hard. He knew his brother was going to close off, and push everything deep behind his walls and not deal with anything. Sam knew the death of their father was probably destroying him, hell...it was nearly destroying him. But Sam knew he had to push it all aside, he knew he had to be there for his brother. Not only for their father's death but everything else. He just hopes he can do it...it feels like too much. Too much to deal with, that Sam doesn't understand how Dean can keep it all inside. How did his brother survive all these years?

Sam knows that Bobby will be there for the both of them, and even though he hates laying his emotional weight onto other people just like his brother; Sam knows he won't be able to do all this by himself. He knows that Bobby will be there for him, and he knows he'll probably end up confiding in him about this hell of a year. He only wishes his brother would trust him enough to confide in him for all the pain his suffered over the year, and all the pain he's hiding about their childhood.

He wants to believe all of Dean's stories, especially about he cuts on his arms, but Sam can't shake this feeling he has. But he couldn't call Dean on it in the hospital, not after everything. Not when so much as already happened. So Sam will have to be patient, and keep a close on his brother. If the doctors are right, and if his gut is right...then his brother is...his brother needs him more than he ever thought.

Sam is snapped out of his thoughts when the water hitting his body becomes ice cold and he starts to shiver. He can only image how long he's been sitting in the bathtub crying. So he turns the water off, and grabs a towel. Luckily, the tears are gone and he numbly gets ready for bed.

When Sam exits the washroom, Bobby is sitting down at the table at he other end of the room. He's looking through their father's journal. Doesn't surprise Sam, there wasn't much else for Bobby to do. They only brought in a bag each. He knew it would piss Dean off, having someone else read their father's journal, but Sam knew better. He knew Bobby probably has seen the journal in the past, has probably read from it. So instead of saying anything, Sam just drops his dirty clothes onto of his bag and collapses onto his bed. He's exhausted.

Bobby looks up from the book when he hears Sam, and he doesn't know what to say to the young man in front of him. He's known Sam and Dean for years. He feels like their just part of the family, so it hurts to see them like this. And it hurts to think of John just...gone.

"You think you'll be able to get some rest?" Bobby asks as he closes the journal, but stays at his seat.

"I donno, probably. I'm exhausted." Sam replies, feeling more tears sting his eyes. He thought he cried them all out, but apparently not.

Bobby can see Sam's struggle, he knows how difficult this must be for him. He also knows how stubborn Dean's going to be through the next couple weeks, and it breaks Bobby's heart. Neither of these boys should have to go through this alone, and even thought they aren't alone, Bobby knows the reality of the situation. He knows Dean's going to push Sam away, and he knows that Sam's going to take it. Take it because that's what family does, they give you your space, they do whatever they can not to lose you. And even though Bobby knows there isn't much he can do about Dean, he refuses to let Sam suffer alone.

"You should get some rest then. We'll get Dean in the morning, get you both back to my place. You both can stay as long as you want." Bobby says softly, and calmly. He doesn't want to push the young man, he knows how painful loss can be.

"Thanks Bobby, you don't know how much all this means to me. I don't..." Sam's voice is cut off. His throat feels like it's on fire, he's fighting so hard not to break down in front of the older man. He thought he got all this out in the shower.

"Sam?" Bobby asks. He slowly gets off his chair and walks towards Sam. He sits down on his bed, opposite Sam.

"I'm sorry, I'm okay. Really, I'm fine." Sam replies, not looking at Bobby. His eyes are stinging painfully as tears fight to free themselves from their prison. Sam hates this.

"You're not fine boy, I'm so sorry for what's happened. If you want to talk, or cry, I'm here. I know you're father had pretty strict rules when it came to how you boys grew up, specifically with your emotions. And on most days, I may agree with the man, even if that sounds completely cold hearted. But this, he'd be wrong Sam. This isn't wrong. Grieving, there is no wrong way." Bobby says softly, as he watches the tears start to run down Sam's face.

"I don't want to dump all this on you Bobby, you've done too much already." Sam tries furiously to wipe the tears off his face, but they continue to fall.

"If not me, then who Sam? You can carry all this on your own, and we all now how Dean's going to be tomorrow and probably for a while. He's going to push everyone away, and act like everything is fine. He's not going to deal with his emotions, and he is going to unknowingly ignore yours. I really don't mind Sam. I'm here for whatever you need." Bobby does not really know what to do in these situations, and he only hopes he's not making a fool of himself.

"I just feel...I feel like it's never going to end for us. Like someone out there is playing some sick joke on us. And I don't understand what we could've done to deserve it all. What did we do? Why is all this happening to us?" Sam manages to get out before the shaking starts, and Sam is barely holding it together.

"I'm so sorry Sam. None of this is fair." Bobby wants to get off his bed and comfort the young man crying in front of him. But it's been so long since he's spent any time with Sam. He doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"I don't...I don't think I can do this Bobby. It's too much." That's all Sam can say before the sobs break free of his chest. Sam leans over, so that he's resting on his knees.

Sam wishes he could just fade away, fade into nothing so that Bobby wouldn't feel obligated to take care of him. And he hates himself when he feels the bed dip next to him, and a hand rubbing circles on his back. He never allowed this to happen after Jessica died, he didn't want Dean to feel like he needed to take care of him. But now, all this, it was too much. Sam wonders if this is what Dean feels like everyday, keeping everything locked away because he doesn't want to be a burden.

Sam was able to pull himself together after a couple minutes, and he sat up. Bobby pulls his hand away from Sam, and they both just sit there on Sam's bed. The room quickly fills with an awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say in the moment.

"I'm tired Bobby, I uh...should get some rest. I can't remember the last time I slept in an actual bed. Then we'll get Dean in the morning, but...Bobby, he's..." Sam doesn't know how to explain to Bobby how damaged his older brother really is. There are so many things that Dean's kept secret from the world until recently. And now that Dean's had another upset, Sam knows it's a big back fall. Sam knows that he can't betray Dean's confidence, but at the same time Sam feels like he's drowning in everything.

"Just give him some time Sam, he'll come around." Bobby says as he moves back to his bed.

"I hope so." Sam replies, mostly to himself.

Neither Bobby, nor Sam, realize how much Dean is hurting back at the hospital. And the length the hospital staff had to go to just to get Dean to sleep. Sam wants to believe everything will be better in time, but he has a bad feeling in his gut.

Sam gets up and moves around his bed, not sure what else to say to Bobby. But Bobby seems to understand the unspoken words, as he too gets up and turns off the lights. They both get in their beds without saying a word to each other. But not sure if sleep will happen, but hoping to get as much rest as they possibly can. Tomorrow is going to be a long one.

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The next morning Bobby and Sam get their bags ready and get in the car. Most of their stuff is at Bobby's, since that's where the Impala is. But Sam did have a small bag of clothes and such. Bobby barely grabbed anything when he left, so all he had to pack up was...nothing.

They made their way to the hospital in silence. They went straight to the nurses station instead of Dean's room. They had no idea what happened last night, so they both agreed it would be wise to talk to a nurse or a doctor first, sign Dean's release papers, and then go get Dean.

The nurse explains to them that Dean was still sedated, that when Dean refused to sleep or eat after Sam left, the doctors felt they needed to take precautions. They knew the stress was too much for their patient, and they didn't want Dean to have another panic attack.

Sam signed the release forms as Bobby continued to talk to a doctor. Bobby asked as many questions as he could. Dean seemed to be healthy, which came as a surprise to everyone on staff. They gave Bobby some prescriptions that he could get filled out at the local pharmacy. They gave him a regular pain medication, and anti-anxiety for panic attacks. The doctor also gave Bobby a list of local psychiatrist's numbers, he says with that with that they may be able to prescribe more if that was necessary; such as anti-depressants.

Bobby just listened, fighting the urge to punch the man in front of him. The doctor showed no sympathy, no real emotion, he just spoke facts. Spoke as if Dean were some fragile little kid, that could break under the slightest of pressures. He did, however, understand the necessity for the pain pills, and anti-anxiety. He had no idea Dean was having panic attacks, he doesn't remember him having any as a child. Then again, Bobby hasn't really had the time to ask Sam about them. So he takes the prescriptions, and numbers from the doc with a smile and then makes his way to Dean's room.

Bobby finds Sam sitting outside Dean's room. He looks exhausted, despite the fact Bobby knows he actually got some sleep last night.

"That doctor is a fucking prick." Bobby says, announcing his approach. He doesn't want to startle Sam.

Sam looks up to see Bobby, and he smiles sadly. He knows Bobby's trying to keep everything light. And well, he would probably agree with Bobby if things were different. Before John died, Sam did have some problems with some of the doctors in this hospital.

"He's still a sleep. They gave him a pretty heavy sedative. They say we can wait until he wakes up, or we can take him as is. I signed all the papers, so..." Sam doesn't really know what they are doing. They still haven't talked about their father. They don't know what they are doing about their father's body yet.

"Doctor gave me some prescriptions that we could get if you think Dean might need them, as well as some numbers for some local psychiatrists. But I'm guessing Dean's not going to use those." Bobby explains as he passes Sam the two prescriptions.

Sam reads the prescription notes, and contemplates what they should do. Bobby's place is about a two hour drive from here. And Sam knows they can't bring both their father and Dean with them at the same time. Not in just Bobby's car.

"What about our dad? We can't...you only brought your car, we can't...I don't know what to do here Bobby." Sam says, completely exhausted. As if the hours of rest he got last night did nothing.

Bobby sits down next to Sam. He takes a deep breath. This is a mess of a situation, but someone needs to come up with a plan.

"Why don't we get your brother to the car. It might be a little awkward, but hospital policy is we get him out of here in a wheelchair, nobody said anything about him being conscious, so... We'll get him to the car, we'll pick up these pills...do you think he'll need both?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah, he won't be happy about the anxiety one, but I know we should get it." Sam replies.

"Okay. We'll pick those up, and we'll drive back to my place. We'll get Dean settle in, let him rest for as long as he wants. While he does, I'll drive back and get your father. I have everything you boys will need for your... I have everything else at my place already. It's been a long time since I've had to... I'm sorry." Bobby doesn't understand why he's so flustered, but it has been a long time since he's had to burn a friend of his.

"That's too much Bobby. You'll be driving back and forth all day." Sam says, he hates this. He hates that Bobby has to do so much. But he doesn't really see an alternate plan. He could stay here in the hospital, but he has a feeling that Dean just wants to get out of here. Hell, he's only been back at the hospital for ten minutes now and he already wants to get away.

"I really don't mind, alright. Why don't you sit with your brother, and I'll go get the chair." Bobby says as he stands up.

"Okay." Sam doesn't wait for Bobby to say more, before he enters his brother's room.

Dean is asleep, probably only due to the sedative the nurse forced onto his brother. Sam feels like being sick, he can't even begin to understand how he's going to handle or fix any of this. Dean looks pale, and his face is blotchy. Probably what Sam would look like if he didn't have the luxury of a shower. The ability to wash away all visible traces of pain and grief.

Sam sits down next to his brother's bed and waited for Bobby to return with the wheelchair. It probably wasn't normal for patience to leave still unconscious. But Sam didn't want to wait for Dean to wake up. It was probably going to be awkward dragging Dean around like this but Sam thinks it's do-able. He can still remember times before Stanford where he'd have to carry his drunk brother to bed, where he's be too wasted to make it on his own. So this shouldn't be any harder, or weirder.

Soon Bobby and Sam get Dean into the car. It was hard at first, but they had some help with one of the doctors. Dean wasn't hooked up to any monitors, so that made things a little easier.

Soon, Sam and Bobby were on the road. Dean still sleeping in the back seat. And Sam had Dean's prescriptions that they picked up from the pharmacy. The ride to Bobby's felt like a life time. Sam was constantly looking back at his brother. The nurses assured them both that Dean was giving a dose before they arrived, and that he should be out for six to eight more hours. But knowing Dean, it would be much sooner than that. And Sam really wanted Dean to be in a comfy bed, in a place that felt safe when he woke up. Not the back seat of a car.

Once at Bobby's, they slowly got Dean up to one of Bobby's guest rooms. The room has a queen sized bed, a desk, and a comfy chair. Bobby helped Sam get Dean in bed.

"I should get back, get uh... get your father." Bobby finally speaks up, as Sam sits down in the chair across from the bed.

"Are you sure you can handle it alone? It was hard enough getting Dean around with the two of us. Can you handle getting a bod...uh... getting, um...our father all by yourself?" Sam falters, trying to work back the emotions that don't seem to want to fade away.

"I'll be fine. All your bags from the car, I put them in the next room where you can sleep. There's not much food in the kitchen, haven't had guests in a while. Once I'm back, I'll hit a grocery store. Give me a call if you need anything, alright?" Bobby states, not sure how else to handle the situation. All of them are absolutely exhausted. And Bobby knows it's going to only get worse before getting better.

"Thanks Bobby, I don't even...I can't even begin to thank you for all this. It means a lot to me." Sam says with a sad smile.

"Don't mention it, just take care of that brother of yours. Don't let him push you too hard, alright? I'll be back by supper. Try to get some rest. Dean should be out for a few more hours." Bobby gives Sam's shoulder a squeeze before leaving the room.

Sam just gets comfy in the chair, but doesn't close his eyes. He doesn't want to risk falling asleep, and having his brother wake up alone.

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Sam sat in the chair, awake, despite the fact his mind was screaming for a rest. But he knew his brother well, knew the sedative the nurse gave him wouldn't last as long as they said. And about two hours after Bobby left, Dean started to stir.

"Dean?" Sam calls out softly. He doesn't want to spook his brother.

Dean's eyes snap open, and he sits up straight. His eyes frantically searching the room, until he sees Sam. His breathing is coming out fast and loud.

"You're okay Dean. We're at Bobby's. Okay? The nurses, they sedated you at the hospital. We didn't think you'd want to wake up there again, so we brought you back to Bobby's. You're heavy, but you're here." Sam says with a smile. He feels the tears stinging his eyes, but he knows he has to be strong.

Dean lets out a deep breath, and relaxes. He's visibly stiff, but he pushes himself back on the bed so that his back is resting on the wall behind him.

"What time is it?" Dean asks, his voice rough and hoarse. Dean hates this feeling. He's so disoriented.

"Um...sometime in the afternoon I'm guessing, maybe two or three. The nurse told us that you've been sedated since midnight last night. So, at least you're nice and rested." Sam replies.

"Oh." Dean doesn't know what else to say. He pushed Sam out the door last time they spoke. He wished that when he woke up, it would all be a weird dream. And when he woke up in an odd room, he thought maybe his wish came true. But no, Sam said they came from the hospital. So everything that happened, it wasn't a dream. Their father is gone.

The room goes quiet. Both boys unsure what to say to the other. Too many things going through their minds.

"Where's Bobby?" Dean finally asks.

"He went back to the hospital. He's getting dad." Sam states, not looking at Dean. He doesn't want Dean to freak out and push him away. But at the same time, he doesn't want to have a painfully emotional conversation. It's still too soon, and he'd be no help to his brother if he broke down first.

"Oh." Dean couldn't think. He couldn't be here. Not now. The walls he tried to build up in the hospital weren't strong enough, and he can feel them breaking. He didn't want to think. It was too hard. He pushed everything away for the last few days, and now everything was trying to push its way back at the same time. Everything.

"Do you need anything? Bobby said there might be some food in the kitchen. All our stuff is in the next guest room, my room I guess. I haven't had the time to go through everything. Everything is a mess. But the trunk wasn't hit too back, but everything still is all over the place. So, uh...I guess I could make us something to eat, or you could get some more sleep. Or maybe a shower. Whatever you'd like I guess. Sorry, I don't...I don't know what to do here Dean." Sam finishes, knowing he's rambling. So he stops.

Sam wants to go through Dean's stuff before giving Dean his bag. He wants to get all the weapons out, and bring them down to the living room, so Sam and Bobby can organize and clean everything. He knows Bobby has already empty the trunk of the Impala. Plus, he's still not sure he wants Dean around sharp objects. He wants to trust his brother, he really does, but at the same time he can't. Sam's not sure Dean would be honest about things lately.

"It's okay, I'm sorry about last night." Dean stares at his hands, fidgeting on his lap. He can't look at his brother right now. It hurts too much.

"It's okay. We have time. Don't worry about it. I guess tonight we'll...um...unless it's too soon. Do you, I mean...should we wait to...uh...dad?" Sam doesn't know how to just come out and say it. How do you ask your brother if it's too soon to burn their father. He doesn't even know the answer to that.

"It's okay Sam, I'm okay. We'll do what has to be done tonight. So, I guess..." Dean pauses as he gets off the bed and tries to stretch. He's very stiff, and can barely stand before he collapses back onto the bed.

"Don't. Okay, I can't...don't." Sam says as he shakes his head. He suddenly feels like a kid. Crying at everything, any time something doesn't work out the way he wants it to. But he's tired of crying, he doesn't want to. Not now, not in front of his brother. Not when it's so clear that his brother needs him more than ever right now, even if he won't admit it.

Dean looks over at his brother, and can see the tears building in his eyes. Dean looks away, if Sam starts to cry he knows he'll cry. And he's not sure he has anything left in him at the moment.

"I guess it's been a while since I've had anything to eat. Hospital food sucks, you know." Dean says, looking over at his brother and putting on the best Dean Winchester smirk he can fake at the moment.

Sam looks up at his brother, and wants so badly to believe the smile on his brother's face. But he knows it can't be real, not yet. Their father's only been dead for a little over a day. He's not expecting either of them to bounce back and be smily and happy. But he knows this is what Dean needs to do.

"Okay. You rest a bit. You look a little sore." Sam says as he gets up and stretches.

"Hell no, I'm coming with you. Don't trust you to cook my first decent meal in days. Besides...if I don't get out of bed now, I may never." Dean slowly gets off the bed. His body is screaming at him to sit back down, but he ignores it. It's not pain, that somehow isn't a factor, which Dean can't even start to think about yet. He's just sore, staying in a bed for too long. He's sure there will be pain soon, the sedative probably helped for the time being.

"Alright, let's go raid Bobby's fridge." Sam says as he walks out of the room.

"Poor man, he's going to need to bring the whole grocery store back with him." Dean says with a small chuckle. It was nice to get back into old habits, even if they were forced.

"Shut up." Sam laughs, even if it hurt.

They make their way to the kitchen, and find some food. Sam's not really that hungry, so he excuses himself to go organize their bags, knowing that Dean will probably want a shower soon. Dean feels a little uncomfortable, sitting at the kitchen table by himself. There was something about the way Sam left the room that bugged Dean. Then again, they are both acting a little strange. And Dean can brush it off. They have been through a lot in the last couple days.

Sam hopes his exit didn't seem odd. He knew he should eat, but then again, when would he get another opportunity to get Dean's bag organized. He really should have done this when Dean was sleeping, but Sam didn't want to leave his side. Sam wants to go through Dean's bag, get all the weapons out of there.

So Sam now searches through Dean's bag, he finds the knife Dean always keeps under his pillow and a small switch blade. Sam's confused as he looks closely at the switchblade, he's sure that it was in his back the last time he checked...which must has been back in Salvation. Dean usually kept a small weapon on him at all times, and Sam too. But Sam left this knife in his bag, so why is it in Dean's.

Sam felt sick. He really didn't want any of this to be true, but the more he looked and the more he thought about it...it all made sense. Sam took a deep breath, closing his brother's bag, and he left the room with the two weapons. He wouldn't completely jump to conclusions until he was sure, but he was going to be extra careful just in case.

Sam then went to the bathroom, where he knew Bobby already but some of their stuff. Their toothbrushes, razors, ect. Sam hoped Dean wouldn't get suspicious, but at the moment Sam really didn't care. This is what Sam needs to do, focus on his brother. Everything else doesn't matter. So he takes the razors out of the bathroom as well, if his brother needs to shave, then he'll ask and Sam can keep an eye on him.

Sam takes all sharp objects and puts them in a drawer in Bobby's room. He'll have to talk to Bobby about this later, but he's not sure what to tell the older man. He doesn't want to betray Dean, but on the other hand, Sam doesn't know how to handle everything on his own.

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Everything was kind of a distant blur for the next few hours. Sam and Dean barely saw each other, let alone spoke to one another. Bobby returned a few hours later with some groceries. He explained to the both of them that he set everything up outside for their father. And whenever they were ready, if they needed anything, all they had to do was ask.

It was night out before the boys slowly make their way outside. They were both dreading this moment, but they both knew it had to be done. Bobby said he could help them, but they both insisted it was something they needed to do on their own.

Seeing the body wrapped up, and all ready, Sam started to cry. He couldn't hold the tears back anymore, but he stayed quiet. Dean didn't even look at his brother, he just did what had to be done. Sam hated himself in that moment, he had told himself so much over the last day and a half that he was going to be the big brother, be there for Dean. But now, he was weak, and Dean was forced to be the one to light the match. Burn their father.

Once the flames were roaring, Sam and Dean both just stood side by side, watching their father's dead body burn on the pyre. Tears are still running quickly down Sam's face, but Dean is cold, stoic. He just stares, unmoving, at the body in front of them.

Dean feels completely numb, but his mind is already craving a release. He tried to convince himself after the close call in the hospital that he needed to back off for awhile. But there is too much going up. He held off on having a shower until after this, knowing that this event would most likely set him off. And he was right, it was all too much. He needed some form of release, and soon. Sam's voice broke though Dean's thoughts, and Dean soon began to hate himself.

"Before...before he..." Sam is barely able to speak through the tears. He knows he should wait. He had plenty of time today to ask his brother this? Why is he doing it now? "Did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean knows his brother must be in an incredible amount of pain, he knows this because he can barely stand it. And Dean's used to being cold, and shut down. But he knows his brother has rarely done that, Sam has always let his emotions show when they needed to. But Dean can't tell Sam want he's asking, it's too soon, too much. He still wants to hate his father what those last words he spoke to him. But he can't, because if he really allows himself to hate him, then he's lost it. And Dean's scared of what he might do.

"No. Nothin'." Dean replies, coldly.

Both boys go completely silent, and after a moment Dean can't stop the single tear that rolls down his cheek. It feels like a knife, cutting down his face. But he doesn't dare move to brush the pain away. He can't let his brother see, he can't...not now.

When all is done, Sam and Dean find themselves back in the house. Sam has been able to stop the tears, but he still feels the pain in his chest. Dean does too, but he can't break in front of his brother. Dean goes and takes a shower.

In the bathroom, Dean searches frantically for something to use as the shower is already running. Dean can tell that Sam's already set up their other bathroom stuff, like their toothbrushes, but there aren't any razors, nothing sharp. _Fuck! _

Dean gets into the shower, and cranks up the heat. The water burns his skin, and the sting of the heat is enough to calm him down in the moment. He's able to push that pain away, if only for the time being. He knows he needs more, and he hates himself for being weak. He doesn't want to do this, but he feels like he's crumbling fast. He tries to convince himself that it would just take a couple cuts, and then he'd be fine. He just has to be extra careful. Can't mess this up.

Dean turns on the cold water on, only for the shake of making his skin seem normal. Sam told him he'd put his bag in his room. And Dean last left Sam downstairs talking to Bobby, but he couldn't risk looking like he spent the last ten minutes under scolding hot water on purpose.

Dean gets out of the shower and wraps a towel around his body. He'll have to ask Sam about a razor later. He's too tired to shave anyways. He also hates having his arms exposed, but Sam hasn't said anything. Dean's positive if Sam didn't believe him that he would have said something by now.

Dean makes his way to his room, numbly. He doesn't really want to sleep, but he can't concentrate on anything else. He finds his bag placed on his bed already. Dean gets dressed in the clothes on top, new pair of boxers and a long sleeved shirt. He's already anticipating the need to cover more secrets.

Dean then starts searching through his bag, he knows there should be at least the knife he keeps until his pillow, and Sam's switchblade, somewhere in his bag. Dean carefully digs around his bag, but finds nothing. Dean feels a panic starting to weight on his chest. He starts to frantically starts pulling all his clothes out of his bag, feeling the panic begin to overwhelm him. The need to cut beginning to drown him.

Dean stares at the now empty bag, and nothing. Clothes are scattered everything, but the bag is completely empty. Dean feels the panic becoming overwhelming, he can't freak out, not now.

"Shit." Dean whispers. But he can't do it. He can't just go to sleep like this.

"Fuck!" Dean shouts as he throws his bag across the room. The bag hits the near by dresser, knocking some objects onto the floor.

Dean freezes, he's sure that got his brother's attention. He can't handle all this, it's too much. He slowly sits down on his bed, and forces himself to remain calm. Forces himself to push every negative emotion, and memory as far back as he can.

Downstairs, Bobby walks into the living room holding two cups of coffee. The shower upstairs still running. It's a couple minutes earlier.

Bobby sits down on a chair in front of a table, across from Sam. Bobby slides over one of the cups towards Sam. Sam forces a smile before taking a sip.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam says softly as he sets the cup back down.

"Like I've said a million times already, it's fine." Bobby smiles, trying to comfort the boy in front of him. Sam's focus stays on the cup in front of him.

"I don't think it's been a million, a hundred maybe. Not a million." Sam smiles, and looks up at Bobby.

"My mistake." Bobby laughs.

Sam's smile quickly fades, and he looks back down on the cup in his hands. Sam's not sure what to say to the man sitting across from him. Bobby is being there for him, when he doesn't have to be. He's given them a place to stay, and someone else to confide in.

"Got any plans for your down time?" Bobby asks, knowing he shouldn't bring up John just yet. He'll leave that in Sam's court.

"Have you located our father's truck? I'd like to go through his stuff, I'm sure Dean will be busy with his car for a while." Sam replies, still staring at his coffee.

"I contacted some people, told them where your father was heading before he was taken. I should hear back from them by tomorrow. I'm sure we'll get the truck back in a couple days. But I can go through his things Sam, you don't have to do that alone." Bobby offered. He knew exactly what Sam was doing. He knew that Sam was trying to be strong for the last member of his family. He knew the pressure that Sam was putting on himself.

"Thanks Bobby, but I'd like to go through his stuff, I wouldn't object to some help though." Sam finally looks up to Bobby, offering him a sad smile.

"Dean's going to okay Sam, you've just got to give him some space. I know it's tough, and trust me, I'd like to give that boy a good smack, knock some sense into him. But I know how stubborn he can be." Bobby takes another sip at his coffee. He has a feeling more is going on between the brothers, more than he knows. But it's not his place to push.

"It's hard Bobby. And you have no idea how much I appreciate your help. I hate dumbing so much on you, but you're right. Dean's going to need space, and I don't... I don't know what to do Bobby." Sam can feel more tears stinging his eyes, and he looks back down to his coffee. He hates how much he's cried over the last couple days. He feels drained.

"Grief takes time, everyone moves at the own pace. And I know your brother seems to want to handle everything on his own. He doesn't want to be a bother to anyone, even though he isn't. That's not what he thinks, is it?" Bobby finishes his coffee, and still feels exhausted.

"It's not just about our dad Bobby, Dean's...there's so much, you know. And it's not just this job. Even though, I now remember why I pulled away from it so much. But Dean, he...I'm scared for him Bobby. So much has happened to him, job related and not. He gave up so much, lost so much. I don't even know if I can help him." Sam doesn't want to betray his brother's trust so he finishes his coffee before his emotions get the better of him and he reveals too much. He knows they can trust Bobby, but he also knows that there are things about Dean that Dean would never want anyone else to know.

"I know that you would never betray your brother's trust, and...well, I guess I should say that I know. Not specifics obviously. But I know there's something else going on with your brother, I could see it when you both came to me after your father went missing. The whole thing with Meg." Bobby pauses, wanting to make sure he's saying and doing the right thing. Sam looks up, so Bobby continues.

"I've known you boys for a long time. I remember those first few years, and I'm sure people have told you this before. But the first few years after your mother was killed, Dean was completely shut off, barely spoke, only to you. And I watched you both grow up. You're father would sometimes drop you two off during a hunt. You were, and still are the most important thing in that boys life." Bobby can see the emotions clearly on Sam's face, he knows he's struggling.

"I know Bobby, that's why all this is so hard." Sam wipes a hand over his face, scrubbing his eyes. He hates this feeling, he just wants to rest.

"Before you left, you'd always wear your emotions on your sleeve. Not afraid to speak your mind, not afraid to show anyone how you really felt. And despite what your father says, I don't think that makes you weak. I think in this life, it makes you brave. But we both know that Dean's your polar opposite. He hides what he believes to be weakness behind layers and layers of walls he created after loosing your mother. I actually don't blame him. Everyone deals with these sort of things in their own way. But when you boys showed up at my place, after your father was taken...I've never seen Dean like that. And I could tell it was more than just about your father. I know it's probably hard enough for him to even confide in you, and I don't expect you to betray his trust in any way. But if you ever need someone to talk to, about anything, I'll be here. I really don't mind. I actually like the change. This job, it can be lonely at times." Bobby takes a deep breath, he forgot how draining letting your emotions show can be. It's been a long time since he's allowed himself to speak his mind, let his thoughts and feelings out.

A few tears slowly run down Sam's face, and he quickly wipes them away. He doesn't look away from Bobby, even thought he wants to hide. He's thought of people like Bobby, Pastor Jim, and Caleb like part of the family. And so many of them are now gone, but he's never felt this close to any of them, even his own father. He's never seen this side of Bobby, and he appreciates it more than he can ever express with words.

"Thank you Bobby, I know I'm saying that a lot these days. I wish there was something more I could do for Dean, like your..." Sam is stops when he hears a crash above them.

Bobby and Sam look up, towards Dean's room. Sam looks over to Bobby, and then both get up and rush up the stairs. Sam stops outside Dean's door and looks over at Bobby. Bobby seems to understand and takes a step back, waiting in the hallway as Sam enters the room.

Sam finds Dean sitting on his bed, clothes scatters around the room, and his bag on the ground next to the dresser. Dean has his head rested in his hands, and Sam can tell his trying to remain calm.

"Dean? Everything okay?" Sam asks softly.

Dean looks up to see his brother, and he fights everything he has not to flinch. He hates this feeling, he hates not being in control of his emotions. But Dean knows he can satisfy his brother's concern. It has been a long day after all.

"Yeah, sorry...uh, got a little upset. I'm fine now. Turns out having a shit-fit while your all alone is actually pretty therapeutic." Dean replies with a grin.

Sam doesn't know how to react. Doesn't know how to help his brother, and it's killing him. He's barely holding it together, and he's only dealing with their job, his connection with the demon, and the lose of their father. Dean is dealing with so much more.

"You wanna talk about it?" Sam asks, knowing that his brother has thrown up his coping mechanisms, and that he'll shut Sam down.

"Thanks for the offer Sammy, but I'm not really in the mood for a heart-to-heart moment, where we both take turns opening up, crying on each other's shoulders. I'm tired. I just...needed to let some of it out, you know?" Dean gets up, hoping he can end this conversation without too much pain, and get to bed.

"Are you sore, or in pain at all?" Sam asks, deciding it was best to give his brother his space. Even though it felt like he was removing a bullet from his chest with a very dull kitchen knife. He can't be selfish, he can't push. He'll let his brother come to him, even if it nearly destroys him in the process.

"A little sore, even though the doctors say it's a miracle that nothing is really wrong with me after what happened. Two miracles in one year, a little weird, but... whatever. Um... look, I'm not trying to brush you off but I'm really tired." Dean says as he pulls the covers back. Dean just wants his brother to leave, he can't think.

"Oh, I totally forgot. One of the doctors gave us some prescriptions, uh...Bobby and I got them on our way from the hospital. Here." Sam takes two pills bottles out of his pocket. "I have another bottle of each whenever you run out, but I'm sure these will last you awhile."

Dean walks over and takes the bottles from his brother. He reads the first one, seems like a standard pain med.

"I'll get you some water." Sam says as he quickly leaves the room.

Sam passes Bobby without a word, as he quickly gets some water from the washroom. Sam just shakes his head when he passes Bobby the second time.

Sam enters the room as Dean opens the first bottle and dumps two pills into his hand. Sam's surprised. Dean rarely admits he's in pain, so Sam thought he'd wait for Sam to leave before taking any pills.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean says as he takes the water from his brother.

Dean takes two pain meds, and sets the bottle down on the dresser. He then reads the next bottle and is instantly confused. He shakes his head and hands out the bottle towards his brother.

"I don't need these." Dean says, slightly frustrated.

"Dean." Sam sighed, he really doesn't want to get into an argument with his brother right now.

"I don't need these Sam, why would you even pick these up. You know me better than this." Dean replies, getting more frustrated.

"Dean, you had a full on panic attack. So bad, that I couldn't talk you out of it. You looked so scared. You knew, you knew it was bad. Those will help. I'm not asking you to take them right now. Hell, you don't ever have to take one ever. But I got them just incase. Because you know what, we're both running on fumes. And I know you're not going to talk to me, and that's fine. But keep them, if you...just in case. Please." Sam pleads. He said more than he wanted to. But he figured Bobby was onto something, Sam did always speak his mind even when he didn't want to.

Dean is surprised. He thought his brother would back us, and he is. But he wasn't expecting that. So he looked down at the bottle in his hand. He couldn't find the words so he just nodded as he places the bottle next to the pain medication.

"So, unless there's something else, I think I'm going to get some rest." Sam stands there for a moment, and then turns towards the door.

Dean knows he should leave it. He shouldn't ask. It's probably nothing. But he can't help himself.

"Hey Sam. Where's my knife? You know, the one I keep under my pillow. The first one uh...dad he..." Dean didn't realize it would be so painful to ask. The knife was really important to him on so many levels; it was one of the first knives his father ever gave him, and it was a fail safe if he needed a quick release and couldn't get to anything else. Not to mention it came in handy if anything tried to break in.

Sam fought to stay calm. He too knew how import the knife was to his brother. But he still couldn't risk it. He still wasn't sure. And his gut was telling him that this freak out, no matter how Dean played it, had something to do with that knife and what he really wanted it for.

"Why do you need it?" Sam asks, not wanted to freak his brother out.

"Come on Sam, you know I always keep it with me." Dean felt a little uneasy. Did this mean that his brother deliberately took the knife from his bag earlier?

"I know, but we're at Bobby's. We're safe. You don't really need it, do you?" Sam hopes Dean can't sense the double meaning behind his question. He wants to just come out and call bullshit. But he remembers the last time he asked a straight question, Dean almost had a panic attack that night.

Dean is shocked. He really thought he got through to his brother back in the hospital, but was he wrong? Does his brother now? _No._ That's can't be right. _Fuck!_

"No. Of course not." Dean replies, forcing a smile as he walked back towards his bed. He felt like he couldn't breath, no possibility for release. Nothing.

"Alright, I'll let you rest." Sam watched Dean for a moment before leaving the room. He closed the door, but didn't move. Bobby looked towards Sam, but Sam but a finger to his lips. Indicating Bobby to stay quiet. Sam listens to the noises inside Dean's room.

Inside the room, Dean collapses onto his bed. His hands are already shaking.

"Shit, shit, shit." Dean hisses under his breath. He doesn't even wait, he doesn't even care if his brother is out of hear shot or not.

Dean jumps off his bed and rushes over to the dresser. He hates that he's weak. He hates that he needs to rely on some pill to calm him down. That's he's too deep in his addiction, his sick habit. Dean's hands are shaking as he picks up the second bottle, the pills rattling inside.

After a couple tries, Dean gets the bottle opened and dumps two pills onto his hand, even though he feels like taking more. He swallows the pills without water, and takes a deep breath. He needs these to work, or else he's going to freak out any second. He slowly walks over to his bed, and lies down.

Outside the room, Sam heard everything, the cursing and the pills. Sam wishes they could go back. Even though he missed his brother those years in school, they did seem to be better for both of them. At least go back to before all this stuff with their father. He knows it was hard for Dean, but Sam really did feel they were getting closer. But now, Sam's positive that Dean's going to bury himself deeper than before. Way deeper.

Sam finally turned towards Bobby, motioning for Bobby to following him downstairs. Bobby follows Sam into the living room, where Sam collapses onto the couch. Bobby pulls a chair from the table over, and sits close to Sam.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asks, knowing it's a stupid question really.

"No, it really isn't." Sam replies, defeated. "I don't know if I can do this. Give him his space. Ignore everything I know, and everything I see. It's going to kill me Bobby."

"Is this about the panic attack?" Bobby asks. Trying to wrap his mind around what is happening. It's bad enough the boys just lost their father, but Bobby can tell there was some more stuff going on.

"Attacks, actually. He's been having them for awhile. Months, actually." Sam knows he needs to be careful, but at the same time he can't not talk about it.

"Months? Do you know why?" Bobby asks, he doesn't want to push. But Bobby's interest and concern has peaked.

"Post-traumatic stress. I didn't study a lot of that kind of stuff at school, but it makes sense. Even if all our problems where hunt related, Dean's gone through a lot. I want to tell you Bobby, I do, because I really don't know to help him. But I can't. He would be so hurt. I could tell he didn't even want me to figure it out. But...the first time it happened, that was months ago. That I can tell you about." Sam needs something, anything to get this pressure off his chest.

"Sure, whatever you want." Bobby replies.

Sam hated to leave out the important details. But he didn't want this to be about him. He trusts Bobby, and maybe one of these days he'll tell Bobby all about the visions. But for today...tonight he'll focus on his brother.

"We got a job, and it brought us back to Lawrence. Back to our old house specifically. Dean didn't want to go, I knew that much from the start. It ended up being a poltergeist, a nasty one at that. I ended up trapped inside after Dean got the family out of the house. When he finally got back inside, the uh...there's was another spirit in the house. I don't know if you've heard about this or not from our father, but it ended up being our mother. It was hard, very hard to see her, but I mean, I never really got to know her. Not like Dean did." Sam stops for a moment, memories of that night flashing in his mind.

"No, your daddy didn't say anything about that. Must of been hard on Dean. Seeing her again. What happened next?" Bobby asks, trying to remain calm and patient. But he feels a pain in his gut, and pain for what these poor boys have gone through.

"Well our mom, she destroyed herself and the poltergeist. Just went up in flames. When it was all over, Dean was...I never saw him so wrecked before. Tears running down his face, kneels over, in the midst of a panic attack. That was the first of many more to come. But that first time, I think Dean was a little scared that someone witnessed it. I'm not sure, but I'm guessing he must have gotten them before or maybe not, I'm not sure. But when I went to touch him, he bolted. I didn't know what to do, so I just stayed there. Frozen, and I hated myself for that. Then I just heard him scream and he was filled with so much pain. It hurt." Tears sting Sam's eyes again, and Sam wonders how he can still have water left in his body.

"Doctors gave him those anti-anxiety pills, I'm sure those will him, right?" Bobby asks. Not sure what else to say. He didn't realize how badly Dean was hurting. Whatever else happened to him, it must have been big. And Bobby has a couple theories, none of them pleasant.

"Sure, they'll help the panic as it comes. But it won't help the problem. Damn it, I donno. I guess I'll just focus on other thing in the mean time. Let him come to me. If he ever does." Sam sighs, defeated.

"I'm so sorry Sam. You look exhausted, why don't you get some rest. We both know Dean's going to want to see his car tomorrow." Bobby sighed as he stood up.

"Yeah, that's going to go over well." Sam got off the couch. "Thanks Bobby. And sorry, sorry that I'm dumping so much our shit on you."

"What did I tell you boy. I really don't mind." Bobby replies before heading up the stairs.

Sam stands in the living room for a moment, confused, hurt, and exhausted. He then heads to bed.

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Dean woke up at three in the morning in a cold sweat. The demon's words now burned into his brain, not to mention his mind decided to be especially nice and replay some other pleasant memories as well. Dean couldn't wake up right away, or else he won't have replayed the whole event at the cabin, and then some. He hated that he got so exhausted that he wouldn't be able to wake himself.

Dean waiting in his bed for over ten minutes, just to be sure he didn't wake anyone else. But nobody came running, nothing. So Dean relaxed a little. But his father's voice was stuck on repeat.

"_You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is...they don't need you. Not like you need them. Right?" John's voice echoes in Dean's head._

Dean got out of his bed, trying to steady himself on his shaky legs. It was too much. Why did he have to remember. Why couldn't his mind just erase it?

"_Does Sammy know how weak you truly are? I bet he does. Bet you've cried on his shoulder every night, at least you've wanted to. Haven't you? Just like you ran into your daddy's arm. Cried like a little baby after the bad man touched you."_

Dean's legs gave out and he collapses onto the ground. He feels like his lunges are on fire, unable to let any air in or out. He wants to call out for help, but he can't. He can't let them see him like this. His father was right, he's weak. He's fucking weak.

Tears start to sting his eyes, his whole body is shaking. He can't think. He can't breath. This can't be happening. He can't believe he actually needs those pills, they actually worked, or else Dean never would have gotten to sleep.

"_And here comes the waterworks. God, your such a disappointment."_

"_He's so tight. You'd think a pretty little thing like this would have been fucked long before tonight."_

"_The other kids are probably just getting rowdy. Jealous I got a new favorite toy."_

"_I need you to look after your brother, Dean. It's very important. I need you to do something for me, Dean. Sam may be in trouble."_

Dean fought every shake, and weakness to get to the pills. He couldn't block it out anymore. Everything was trying to suffocate him.

"_See Sammy, this is what your brother is. Always has been. Those walls aren't as strong as you think, are they Dean?"_

"_I want to see his face when I fuck him."_

"_You want to know why your father really left you behind? Why he didn't meet up with you after your New Orleans job? Come on, tell us what you really think? You don't really believe your father's lame excuses. He was lying right to your face."_

"No, stop it, please." Dean whispers to himself. But the voices keep coming, and it's destroying him. Dean struggles to open the pill bottle as the images and the voices continue their assault. Dean knows the pills won't shut out the voices, but they will hopefully calm him down. Then he'll just have to find something else to occupy his mind.

"_He's been following you this whole time. You really think he doesn't know what happened to you?"_

"_You're daddy doesn't want you anymore Deanie. He hates you and your brother, can't stand the sight of you. That's why your here boy."_

"_It was only three men Dean, how could they have possibly got the jump on you? In your own motel room. You're pathetic."_

Dean swallows three pills dry, and collapses against the dresser. Tears are now streaming down his face. He can barely take it anymore. He feels like he's dying.

Dean soon finds himself walking through Bobby's yard, a flashlight in hand. He nearly panicked all over again at the sight of his car. It was a mess. Dean didn't even stop the tears as they continued down his face. But at the same time, this is one hell of a distraction.

Dean walks over to the trunk, which seems to be somewhat in tack. He opens it up, but it's empty. All the weapons are gone. Dean shouldn't be surprised, he's pretty positive his brother knows everything now. He probably brought all the weapons in doors, or he got Bobby to with some kind of lie.

Dean doesn't even know where to start. It's going to take a very long time to fix his car up, and have it running again. Dean hates that he can't rely on the hunt to distract himself. He could really go for killing something right now. But he also has to keep Sam in mind. He can't be selfish, or a jackass. His brother is in pain too.

So Dean just sits on the ground, he knew he couldn't do anything until Bobby got up. He didn't know where all his tools were, and Dean was far too tired to go snooping in the dark.

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Sam woke up, and was surprised to learn that it was already eleven in the morning. He must have really needed the rest. It's been a long time since he's slept in. As he walked towards the stairwell, he peeked into Dean's room. He really shouldn't be surprised that Dean was already up.

Sam walks down to the kitchen, where Bobby is already sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. A coffee mug sitting in front of the empty chair across from Bobby. Sam smiles and sits down, drinking the still hot beverage.

"That brother of yours was up before I was. He's already working on the car. Told him I probably don't have all the parts he's going to need, but just to let me know and I'll order whatever he needs." Bobby speaks, without looking up from his paper.

"Thanks Bobby, I'm sure Dean appreciates it." Sam continues to drink his coffee. He's still pretty tired, despite all the sleep he got, but the coffee is definitely helping.

"I got a call from a friend of mine. They found your daddy's car. I'm going to meet with him, and I'll tow the trunk back here. I should be back before nightfall if I leave within the hour." Bobby continues, finally putting the paper down and looking across the table at Sam.

"Did you get any sleep last night, you look exhausted." Bobby gets up and gets more coffee, pouring it into Sam's already empty mug.

"Yeah, I actually did. But I still feel exhausted. It's probably more stress than actually sleep." Sam says, smiling.

"Yeah. Look, you can come with me if you want, but it's just going to be a lot of driving. You should just stay here. My car is still running, it's a little touch and go like you could probably tell from the other day. But you're more than welcome to take it, go into town." Bobby sits back down, and finishes his coffee.

"Thanks Bobby. I think I might do that. I'm sure Dean will be out there all day working on his car." Sam starts on his second cup of coffee.

"You know...I'm here for you, anytime you want to talk. But, those numbers the doctors gave us. They don't just have to be for your brother, Sam. I don't mean to offend you or anything." Bobby was never good at this, he's never had kids of his own. But he feels like he needs to try.

"I don't think I could Bobby, it's too much. Thanks though. Unless of course I'm being too much of a bother, than I'll talk to someone. I don't want to put all this all on your. Hell, maybe I should start paying you. I'll probably be treating you like my own psychiatrist during the next couple weeks anyways." Sam laughs softly, just to cover the pain.

"Nonsense, I really don't mind. I just wanted to say it, incase you are more like your brother and you feel bad about all this." Bobby offers a smile.

"I do, but I feel comfortable around you. I don't think I'd be able to dump all this onto a strange." Sam finishes his second cup. He wants more coffee, but he knows that's probably a bad idea.

"I'll have my phone on me if you need anything. The keys to my car are hanging by the door. Got some food yesterday, not sure if it's nearly enough." Bobby smiles, he'd forgotten how much the boys could eat. Even thought he's sure Dean doesn't have much of an appetite.

"I'm sorry Bobby, I'll head into town today." Sam gets up as Bobby does.

"I'm heading out. Go check on his brother. I'm sure he'd like the company, even if he says other wise." Bobby says as he leaves the house.

Sam waits for awhile, not sure what to even say to his brother. He walks around the house for a while, wondering what to do with himself. Finally he decides to head outside, maybe his brother is hungry.

Outside, Dean is working on the car. Sam has no idea what Dean's doing, but then again Sam never was much of a car man.

"Hey." Sam calls out as he approaches the car.

Dean looks up as Sam approaches and puts down his tools. He's not really in the mood, but he can't just ignore his brother before he even says a word.

"What's up?" Dean asks.

"Just thought I'd see how everything was going, I doubt you need a hand though. But how about some lunch?" Sam asks, not sure what else to say.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." Dean replies, wanting to get back to the car. "Thanks for asking."

"Bobby headed out to pick up dad's truck. He should be back later tonight. I was thinking of heading into town. Did you want anything, or did you want to tag along?" Sam asks, trying to ignore the small flinch that went through his brother's body at the mention of their father.

"No, I think I'm just going to work on the car. It's going to take me weeks to get her up and running again. But thanks for the offer." Dean put on a smile, hoping his brother won't see through the facade. He hates that he's reverted back to this version of himself. Even though he's pushed it, he actually liked the comfort in opening up to his brother. But now, everything has gone to shit.

"Okay. I think I'm going to head out. Get some stuff, uh...call me if you need anything. I shouldn't be too long." Sam wanted to cry, why did this have to happen now. Why are they reverted back to this.

"Okay. I'll see you later than." Dean went straight back the car.

Sam just left not knowing what to do. He just knew he had to try anything he could to survive the next couple days. Because he knew they were going to be brutal.

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The next couple days were exactly like Sam predicted. He barely saw his brother, and even though he knew exactly where to find him, he left him alone.

Bobby helped Sam go through all of John's stuff, and there was a lot of it. Research, most of which Sam couldn't even begin to wrap his head around. Their father's cellphone, which Sam wasn't able to crack the voicemail password just yet. And a bunch of weapons.

Sam has managed to stay away from heavy emotional conversation with Bobby. It was hard, and Sam cried in silence, alone in his room many nights. It was all he could do. Dealing with their father's stuff was hard. Dean wouldn't even look at it. Sam couldn't blame him, not really.

Sam didn't know how much longer he could take the silent treatment, and it scared him ever time he saw a glimpse of his brother. He knew his brother was barely sleeping, and he knew for a fact that his brother was barely eating. He barely had to talk Bobby into hiding the alcohol, Bobby was about to do it before Sam asked.

And Dean knew exactly what they were up to and he hated it. Hated that the people that he thought cared for him, were suddenly walking on egg shells around him. He hated feeling this vulnerable, and weak. But that's all he could do. He needed to shut down or else the memories and the voices would kill him.

He was also completely frustrated. His brother was watching him like a hawk everytime he was in doors. Dean wasn't allowed to shave without Sam near by, of course Sam never came out and accused Dean of anything yet, but Dean knew. And now Dean was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The fourth day, Sam was about to crack. He still couldn't figure out any of their father's research, still wasn't able to get into his father's voicemail, and Dean was still ignoring him.

That night, Sam found one of the hidden whiskey bottles and sat down on the couch. He couldn't open it, he didn't want to open it. So he just stared at it. His brother still outside working on the car, despite the fact that it's pitch dark outside. And Bobby's somewhere in the house. Maybe he wanted Bobby to find him like this. Maybe he needed to talk but just couldn't force himself to be the one to start it.

"Drinking alone, that's never a good sign." Bobby spoke up as he enters the room. He pulls up a chair again, and sits in front of Sam.

"Haven't opened it yet. Just thinking." Sam keeps his eyes on the bottle. He doesn't want to look at the man in front of him yet. He doesn't want to see disappointment.

"Damn it boy, I told you before, you can talk to me. Don't bury this like your brother, no need for you to both suffer in silence." Bobby snaps, a little too harshly.

"Sorry." Sam takes a deep breath, putting the bottle down on the couch cushion next to him.

"Nothing to be sorry for this boy. You're hurtin', and I'd hate to see you bury it like your stubborn-ass brother. I know this emotional conversations aren't too high on a hunters list, we tend to disconnect, be cold. But there's nothing wrong with talking about it Sam. And if you can't do so with your brother, than I'm willing to listen. I really don't mind." Bobby knew he was probably really bad at this, and he almost hating John for what he clearly did to his boys.

Neither of the men realized that Dean had entered the house. He heard the two talking, but froze when he heard Sam speak next.

"I feel like I'm losing him Bobby. He isn't talking to me, it's been five days, and nothing. I know he's barely eating, barely sleeping. All he does is work on the car. And I don't know what to do. I can't lose him Bobby." Sam can't stop the tears that start to fall down his face.

Dean can't take it, and quietly walks up to his room. He won't hear what his brother tells Bobby. He could tell him anything, everything. He also can't stand the pain in his brother's voice. He needs something, he needs that release. But how? Where would his brother have hidden his knife?

Downstairs, both men are unaware of the search Dean is conducting upstairs as Sam continues to cry. Bobby didn't know what to do in this situation. He doesn't know how to handle this. He didn't want to push Sam, so he stayed seated. Tries to use his words as comfort for the time being.

"Sam, I don't...I don't even know what to say. I'd say give him time, but I get the feeling that you may have a long wait ahead of you. I could try and talk some sense into the kid." Bobby offers, already knowing the answer.

"No. It's okay, I'll give him some more time." Sam wipes the tears from his face but they just keep falling. Sam just laughs, but it's filled with pain and anguish. "God, what's wrong with me. Why can't I stop crying?"

Bobby didn't know how to comfort the grieving boy in front of him, and that broke his heart. Why couldn't he find the words. All he could think of is, 'I'm sorry', but he feels those words are over used. He takes a deep breath, he feels stupid, but he ventures into a new territory.

"I'm not very good at this Sam, so you're just have to bear with me. It's not wrong to grieve whatever way you need to. Cry as much as you need to cry. It's not wrong. But I don't really have any words of wisdom to share with you. I don't know what to say to make this better for you. I'm sure your brother would be a lot more helpful in this situation, and I know it's painful what he's doing to you. So, I don't know what to say to make this better." Bobby felt completely helpless, and it's been years since he's felt this feeling. He now remembers why he hated it so much.

"No, you're doing great, you have no idea how glad I am you let us stay here." Sam manages through the tears. Sam tries to wipe them away, but they continue to fall. Sam starts to shake as he tries to suppress the sobs that are trying to tear through his chest.

"You're helping, really. I know it doesn't seem like it. But it hurts, Bobby, and I don't know what to do. I can't deal with this, it's too much." Sam leans forward, leaning his head on his knees as he continued to cry. He wishes he could just sink into the couch, he hates being so vulnerable around Bobby. But it is helping.

Bobby just sits in his chair, hating himself. Why can't he think of a better thing to say, or something to do that would make the poor boy feel better. All he can do it wait it out, and be there for him.

Meanwhile upstairs, Dean is starting to freak out. He knows he should be a good little boy and just take the take pills, but he's had enough. He's almost certain that his brother has been checking up on him, so he'd know that Dean was taking both pills.

He knew he needed to be quiet. He also knew that he wouldn't find anything in his brother's room. He also knew that it would be too risky to go downstairs where he knew the bulk of weapon's from both the Impala and their father's trunk are located. Not to mention a kitchen full of cutlery. But Dean also knew that his knife and Sam's switchblade weren't downstairs.

There weren't many options upstairs; there's the bathroom, Bobby's room, the two guest rooms that Dean and Sam are occupying, and a small study. There are also some closets along the main hallway. Dean can cross out his and Sam's room, there's no way he'd find anything there. He also had a pretty good feeling that Sam wouldn't hide them in the closets in the hallway, unless of course he wanted it more in the open.

But Dean made a decision, and it was the right one. He first searched Bobby's room as quietly and quickly as possible. He finally found what he was looking for after a couple minutes. He looked at the two knife, not sure what to do. He's always used his small silver knife, that's what he's used to using in a pinch. He knows how hard to push, but these two weapons, he's not as comfortable with. That doesn't matter in this moment though.

Dean leaves his knife in the dresser and takes Sam's switchblade, it's smaller. Easier to hide in his pant pocket if he needs to.

Dean's hands are shaking as he walks down the hallway, and towards the bathroom. He stops by the stairwell and leans over, trying to hear what's happening downstairs. He can't hear specifics, but he can tell that Sam and Bobby are still talking.

Dean then goes into the washroom, placing the switchblade on the counter. He casually stripped down and gets into the shower, bringing the weapon with him. The last cuts on his arms haven't completely healed, and Dean's rarely creates new cuts while old ones where still visible. It was never this bad.

Downstairs Sam sits up, confused when he hears the shower running. Bobby is still sitting across from Sam, tears in his own eyes that he refuses to let fall. Sam's face is wet with tears, and even though he's not completely breaking down now, tears are still falling down his face but slowly.

"I didn't even hear him come in." Sam says, trying to wipe the tears off his face.

"We were kind of distracted, I'm sure he's okay." Bobby got up off his chair. "I'm going to make some coffee."

Sam follows Bobby into the kitchen, he suddenly has a weird filling in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm only making myself a cup." Bobby says as he starts making his coffee.

"What?" Sam asks, confused.

"You really don't need any caffeine this last. Me, well my sleeping habits have always been off. You're going to get some rest tonight, some proper rest." Bobby continues to makes his coffee as Sam sits down at the table.

"This is because of all the crying isn't it, I'm sorry." Sam does feel exhausted. Bobby's probably right, coffee would be a bad idea right now.

"No, it's not. It's because I want us all to get some good rest tonight, well...at least you. Don't worry about anything tonight, not even your brother. We all know, after his shower, he's going to tell us he's going to bed. He's going to wait a couple hours, be sure we'll both in bed and then he's going to go back to his car." Bobby has his coffee made and takes a seat across from Sam.

Sam just looks at Bobby with shock. Yes, he's known that Dean's gets up very early to work on his car. Sam also knows that based on the time he always hears him getting up, he might be getting two to three hours of sleep every night. What Sam didn't realize, is that Bobby saw through his brother's facade as well.

"What you didn't think I knew. You're brother's good, but he's not that good. And I don't want you running yourself into the ground with worry. So I want you to go and talk him. He needs to quick being an idjit, and get some rest. But we both know he's probably going to push away. And when he does, I really don't want you to think you're being a bother to me. If you need to talk some more, than I'm here for you. But I think it will give you some peace if you talk to him tonight. Maybe help you sleep through whatever Dean decides to do tonight." Bobby finishes and starts drinking his coffee.

Sam doesn't know what to say, he just offers the man a smile before getting up and leaving the room.

Dean has already gotten out of the shower quickly after making two fairly deep cuts on his arm. He's calmer, and he covers his arm with his clothes as he makes his way to his room. He gets dressed for bed, in a pair of boxers and another long sleeved shirt. He's completely unaware that he rushed everything. He's too closed off, too numb. He barely felt the pain this time, and it actually scared him for a couple minutes. But then he shut down again. Maybe if he was more aware, he'd know he rushed it. Know that any minute blood would start to seep through his sleeve, unnoticed.

There's a knock on his door before he can get settled. He wants to ignore it, he's almost positive it's his brother. Not a lot of options these day really.

"Come in Sammy." Dean calls out. He feels the anger already started to boil inside him. He doesn't know why he's so angry all the time. And he knows it's only going to be directed at Sam, and he knows he's going to feel like shit after.

Sam slowly enters the room. Dean instantly can tell that his brother has been crying. He looks exhausted.

"What's up Sam?" Dean asks, really not in the mood. If he couldn't get a couple hours sleep now, he doesn't think he'll be able to later. Getting himself ready to sleep is always nerve-racking. Knowing what waits for him. But if Sam draws out his emotions now, he's screwed.

"I uh...I just thought we could talk. Feels like you're been kind of ignoring me lately. And I mean, I don't really blame you. I know I push, hell I feel like I'm doing it right now, but..." Sam doesn't really know what to talk about, what to say without causing more harm.

"Don't Sam. There's nothing to talk about. I'm not ignoring you, I'm just focused on the car. You know how I get when we stay in one place for too long." Know that Dean's more aware, the pain in his arm is becoming almost unbearable. He didn't realize at the time how deep he cut, he didn't feel it then. But he can feel it now, and it's actually helping him stay a little grounded.

"I know your not sleeping, and I know your barely eating. I know fixing the car is important to you. But I'm worried about you." Sam is starting to get frustrated. He really should have thought this through. He's been giving his brother space for days, and now that he's finally trying to confront the situation, he's doing it blind. _Stupid._

"I'm fine Sam. I'm sleeping, and I'm eating. So why don't you just back to fuck off me, alright!" Dean bits down the rage, but it's overflowing. Why is he taking it out on Sam, he doesn't want to. But the one person he wants to be anger at, the one person he wants to take the rage out on, isn't around. And he can't be mad at him now, or else...

"Dean, I'm only trying to help." Sam pleads. How did it turn so fast? His brother doesn't usually get so angry, not so quickly.

"Help? How is this help? Excusing me of things, that unless you're watching me like a freakin' hawk, and not getting any sleep yourself, you wouldn't know. You barely talk to me in days, giving me my space. And then the first real conversation we have, you jump down my throat. How it that helping? How Sam, enlighten me." Dean's voice is raising by the minute but he is trying so hard not to yell. Not to freak out.

"Why are you angry at me? I'm doing all I can. You won't talk to me. You keep shutting me out. And before, I could understand it. What you went through...." Sam tries to continue but Dean keeps cutting him off.

"Stop." Dean mutters.

"Dean, I get it. I don't being to image how painful that was, dealing with that on your own, but you aren't alone anymore..." Again Dean cuts him off, or at least tries to.

"I said stop it Sam." Dean grows.

"But this, dad... He's gone, and that affects me to. You don't think..." Sam stops this time as Dean finally yells at the top of his lungs.

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean shouts.

Sam is shocked, and just stands there. He doesn't know what to say. Dean's breathing is coming out short and loud. But Sam can tell it's not due to a panic, it's due to anger. Sam's never seen his brother so angry before, at least not directed at himself.

They both stand there in silence, both unaware that Bobby is on his way up due to the noise. But Bobby doesn't enter the room.

Sam then notices the blood seeping through Dean's shirt sleeve. He can tell it's fresh, and he can tell whatever wound that is hiding behind those clothes, it's still bleeding.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Sam asks, not really the question that Sam wanted to ask but that's what came out.

"What?" Dean asks. His brother's voice snapping him back to reality.

Sam points towards Dean's arm, and Dean looks down. He tries to hide his panic as he sees the blood. His mind can't think, he's screwed.

"What did you do?" Sam asks, a little stronger.

"Nothing. Must have hit it while working on the car." Dean sits down on the bed, putting his hand over the blood.

"And you didn't notice when you showered? What's going on Dean, and please, just tell me the truth for once." Sam can feel more tears stinging his eyes. He's definitely getting it all out. After this week, he probably won't need to cry for a year.

"For once? You think I've been lying to you?" Dean tries to sound hurt, but he really isn't. He'd hoped that his lies were convincing, but clearly they weren't.

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. I just...I don't want to see you hurting yourself. Why would you do that to yourself, I don't...I dont' even now how to begin to help you if you can't...if you won't just tell me." Sam really doesn't want to cry in front of his brother, but he hates this feeling. He hates that his brother has reverted back to the bricked up, emotionless soldier. But Sam is pretty sure now that the cuts he saw in the hospital, and whatever is bleeding now...those are self-inflicted.

"Fuck you Sam. Get the fuck out. I don't have to justify anything to you. Don't believe me, see if I care." Dean gets up off the bed, and approaches his brother.

"Then let me take a look, it probably needs stitches. We should take a look at it." Sam is trying desperately to hold onto the situation, but he knows he's lost.

"No, you want to prove something that isn't there. It's nothing. Why can't you just fucking believe me. Please." Dean doesn't want to sound desperate. He started off angry, but then it quickly became something else with the 'please.' Why did he get so careless?

"Dean?" Sam is surprised when he sees tears building in his brother's eyes. _ Fuck._ This is huge. And he blew it, he knows that now.

"Get the fuck out Sam!" Dean shouts, needed to hold onto the anger before the pain trying to drown him.

Dean grabs a hold of Sam's arm, opens the door to his room, and pushes Sam out. Slamming the door behind him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Dean walks over to his pills and takes two anti-anxiety pills. He can't freak out. He can't, not now.

Bobby is shocked to see Sam pushed out of Dean's room, and the outburst he heard inside the room. He isn't able to react fast enough, and Sam collides with the wall. Sam slides to the ground, new tears streaming down his face. _Damn it, why can't these boys catch a break._

"Sam?" Bobby asks, cautiously.

Sam then stands up quickly, cursing under his breath, and walks quickly down the hall. Bobby's confused at first, but follows Sam to Bobby's room.

"Damn it. Fuck." Sam goes over to the dresser, only to find Dean's knife, nothing else. Sam slams the dresser door closed. "Fuck!"

Sam collapses onto the ground. Bobby doesn't waste anytime, he rushes over to Sam, and kneels down in front of him. He doesn't know what's happening. He wants to ask why one of Dean's knives are in his room, but he knows that's not the key issue right now.

"What happened Sam? Talk to me." Bobby pulls Sam's hands away from his face. His heart nearly breaks again seeing the pain, and tears on Sam's face. He was the one that told Sam to talk to his brother, this is partially his fault. So he needs to figure out what happened, so he needs to be strong and tough, even if it hurts.

"I fucked up. I fucked everything up. He's never talk to me again." Sam sobs, knowing this is the time he pushed his brother too far.

"No, come on Sam. No way. What happened?" Bobby can see that Sam's panicking, that he's not thinking clearly. He needs to snap him out of it.

"I didn't want to believe, but it's... It's true, fuck. Why would he do that to himself?" Sam continues to cry.

"Hey! Sam, you need to calm down and talk to me. What the fuck happened?" Bobby shakes Sam forcefully against the dresser, hoping it's not too much.

The shake seemed to help, as Sam brushes the tears from his face. He takes a deep, calming breath before he begins to speak.

"If Dean knew I was telling you this..." Sam hates this, hates that he has to go behind his brother's back.

"I know." Bobby just waits, hating the situation just as much.

"At the hospital, I didn't want to believe it...but now I know." Sam tries to force down the nausea. That's the last thing Bobby needs, Sam puking all over him.

"Come on, get up." Bobby stands up, and pulls Sam to his feel.

Sam is almost comatose, as he lets Bobby drag him to the bed, and sits him down. It's all too much. Bobby then pulls up a chair in the corner of his room, and drags it in front of Sam. He takes a seat.

"Just take is slow, okay." Bobby lays a reassuring hand on Sam's knee and gives it a tight squeeze.

Sam relaxes a little, and looks up at Bobby. Sam smiles, so Bobby takes his hand away.

"Dean had some cuts on his arm, some that were already healing. They weren't from the crash, or the demon. And Dean didn't mention any injuries from anything before, nothing in Salvation, and nothing here with Meg. The doctors thought they might be self-inflicted." Sam takes a breath, hating that he's going behind his brother's back, But he has no choice.

Bobby shakes his head, but doesn't interrupt. He knows Dean carried a lot of weight around, a lot of pain. But to think he'd do that to himself, Bobby couldn't believe it.

"I shook it off, told the doctors it was work related. When Dean woke up, I asked him about it. He couldn't really give me a straight answer. But so much has happened, and I wanted to believe him so badly. And just, uh...when we were talking, just now, I show blood...fresh blood seeping through his shirt sleeve. He said he must of hit his arm while fixing the car, but it doesn't make sense. He just got so angry when I asked about it. I've never seen him like this, and I don't know what to do." The tears run quickly down his face. Sam just wants it all to stop.

"Damn it Sam. I'm so sorry." Bobby just wants to walk into Dean's room, and smack some sense into that kid. But Sam's the bigger issue right now. He isn't pushing the help away.

"You can't tell him. I know you Bobby. You got this whole tough love thing, which seems to have vanished these last few days. I keep expecting you to tell me to suck it up." Sam smiles sadly.

Bobby just shakes his head. "You know I wouldn't do that to you Sam. Not now. Not with what happened to your daddy."

"But you can't tell him. Please. He's so angry. He can't handle knowing that I told you this. I don't know how much more he can take. I feel like I'm losing him Bobby." Sam tries desperately to wipe the tears from his face. He feels exhausted.

"You look like you're about to pass out. Sleep, right here, okay. Because I'm not caring your ass to your room. You're like dead weight. Sleep. There's nothing more you can do now. Just...I hate to say it, but just give him some space. That's all you can do right now." Bobby pats Sam on the leg before getting up.

Sam wants to protest, but he really doesn't think he can get off the bed. It's too comfy.

"What if it gets worse Bobby?" Sam asks before Bobby can leave the room.

"If that happens...we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there. Maybe some tough love will be required." Bobby says with a light laugh.

Sam weakly pushes himself back on the bed, and collapses. "Thanks Bobby."

"Anytime kiddo. Get some sleep." Bobby sighs, he really wish John were here. Not because he thinks John would be any better in this situation, he knows he wouldn't. But just so that there would be one less mess on these boys shoulders.

Bobby turns the lights off, and leaves the room.

Both boys fall asleep, despite all the stress, anger, and confusion that surrounded the day. And they both end up crying themselves to sleep. Bobby can hear the silently sobs coming Dean's room as he passes and the urge to smack the boy upside the head only grows stronger. They are both in so much pain, but Dean refuses to help himself. He just suffers all alone, and there's no one to blame but himself.

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Sam forces himself to focus on the job. It's the only thing he can do to stop himself from either pushing Dean some more, apologizing like crazy, or crying on Bobby's shoulder. So he takes the better option. He knows he shouldn't latch onto the anger, and the need for revenge. It's partially what got them in this situation to begin with. But if Dean was going to ignore his own pain, and only push Sam away. This was all he could do to remain sane.

Finally, two days after the blow out Sam cracks his father's voice-mail code. That's all he's really done. His father's research still too confusing.

His father has a lot of messages, some left recently, some archived from days to months before he got captured. One message in particular stood out, and Sam had to listen to it a couple times. It didn't make sense. He's never heard of this person before.

"John, it's Ellen...again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me." The message ends.

Sam sits there, confused. The message was short, nothing overly important or out of the ordinary at first glance. But after listening to it over and over again, Sam started to think that it may be the most important lead they have right now.

So if Dean wants to pretend, wants to put up the walls then fine. Might as well hit the road.

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This chapter was hard, with no real reference to go off. Hope it was okay. Know it was kind of long, glad you all stuck through it. Next chapter is of course going to be Everyone Loves a Clown. Hope to have it up soon.

**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

Thanks.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Review Response:

Hogaboom:

Thanks for the kind review. I do plan on continuing, I won't leave it hanging. Thanks, glad you're liking it so far.

Thanks to J-09, wen1, unicornofrainbow, moira4eku, and rholou for your kind reviews.

No major warnings, only slight reference to self-harm.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 14. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 14 - EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN**

Dean was working on his car, yet again. It was coming along, slowly. But Dean depended on his car, depended on the distraction. If he didn't have it, it would force him to really look at the fucked up situation he was in. The nightmares never stopped, never and Dean would get less and less sleep. Most of his dreams were about his father, and about that night at the cabin. He wouldn't allow them to get any further.

His dreams would sometimes morph into moments when Dean was a child; those first training sessions, when his father hit him and beat him that first and last time out of anger, the foster care old scary man, and of course the first time he put a sharp blade to his flesh. But the worst of it all, was when the other event bled into his nightmares. Dean wanted to beat the crap out of himself for his stupid weakness. It's been over a year since the rape, and he still can't look at it complete, can't get past the memory of that first painful thrust.

Those nights, the nights that pain returns, Dean barely would make it outside before throwing up what little he had to eat the day before. So Dean barely ate at all, expecting the worst. Not to mention he didn't really have much of an appetite on the best of days.

But the fact that Dean still did not have the strength to look at the entire event, that he still got sick, still got nightmare. It make Dean hate himself that much more, because he knew there were three men in the room that night. Three that wanted their turn.

Dean also needed his car because it helped him ignore Sam, and all the extra pain that caused. He hasn't said more than two words to his brother since he threw him out of his room a couple nights ago. He can't think about that. He can't believe he was so stupid, that he wasn't careful enough. And now, now he's positive that his brother knows about yet another fuck up, another weakness.

Dean also hates himself for ignoring the pain that he knows Sam is dealing with because of their father. But Dean has shut himself down almost completely, re-enforcing his walls daily. Not wanting to give them a chance to break, or falter. He can't have that happen, can't let his brother get any close, no matter what. Even if that makes him an incredibly huge jackass.

It's sometime in the afternoon, and Dean is sweating through his shirt. He knows that he doesn't really need to wear long sleeves anymore, the secret is out. But Dean wants to stay in his land of denial as long as possible. He hears footsteps approaching, and Dean feels a shiver run down his spine. He doesn't have to look up to know that it's his brother. Dean knew this moment was coming, he knew his brother wasn't going to remain silent forever.

"How's the car comin' along?" Sam asks.

Dean gets out from under the car, and looks over at his brother, but remains on the ground. He tries to remain occupied, focusing on the car. He really doesn't want to have this conversation, but he also doesn't want to hurt his brother more than he already has. He hates this...all of it.

"Slow." Dean doesn't really know what to say to his brother. They haven't really talked since a couple nights ago.

"Yeah? Need any help?" Sam asks, knowing it's pointless. He should just get right to the point, but he still wants his brother to be okay.

"What, you under a hood? I'll pass." Dean replies, trying to remain calm and casual.

"Need anything else then?" Sam asks, feeling like an idiot.

"Stop it, Sam." Dean says, as he gets up off the ground.

"Stop what?" Sam asks, a little frustrated. It should be like this.

"Stop askin' if I need anything, stop askin' if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." Dean replies, not really believing it himself.

"All right. It's just, Dean...we've been at Bobby's for over a week now, and...well, everything has just gone to shit. And I'm trying to give you your space, I really am, but I can't do it forever. You haven't brought up Dad once." Sam huffs, wanted to ask so many other things. Like how long has his brother keep cutting, and keeping it a secret. How long does his brother expect him to sit idly by the sidelines, saying nothing.

"You know what, you're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug...maybe even slow dance." Dean replies, sarcasm laced heavily through every word. He knows that his brother won't believe a single second. But he doesn't know what else to do. There's too much, too much he knows his brother is dying to know about.

"Don't patronize me, Dean, Dad's dead! The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothin' happened. Not to mention all the other shit that you won't talk about. You expect me to just ignore it." Sam just feels like everything is spinning out of control. He's so angry.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asks, trying to stall. Feeling a panic rising in his chest. Hating every second of this. Why is all this happening, why can't he just be around his brother without all this shit swirling around.

"Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! I can ignore of the other shit for now, because I know there's just so much. But Dad, his death, it effects me too. Fuck! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long, buried underneath this damn car!" Sam nearly shouts.

"Revenge, huh?" Dean can hold onto this, if it means ignoring the rest. It's close enough to the job, close enough to something he can handle.

"Yeah." Sam doesn't want to ignore this other shit, despite what he just said. He wants to talk about everything, but he knows that he can't. Knows it would only cause Dean to push away even further, if that's even possible.

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Are you makin' heads or trails of any of Dad's research? 'Cause I sure ain't." Dean states, noticing the change is his brother's face.

Sam had no idea Dean looks at their father stuff. He thought it was too painful for him. And Sam wouldn't blame him. It was barely bearable for Sam to look at what was left of their father.

"I know you think I haven't look, but I have...a little. And it makes absolutely no sense to me, and I'm assuming since you haven't come to me with anything, that you can't figure it out either. But you know what, when we do finally find it...oh no, wait. Like you said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothin', okay? So you know what? The only think I can do is I can work on the car." Dean snaps, knowing he's being harsh. But that's all he can be. If he can't hold onto the anger, then everything will slip and crumple away.

"Well, we've got somethin', all right? That's what I came out here to tell you." Sam says, hating himself for ignoring everything that is so clearly destroying his brother. So he continues down the only logically path; keep everything on the job. He takes out their father's cell phone from his pocket.

"It's one of Dad's old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to it." Sam says, as he hands the phone over to his brother.

Dean hesitates, but takes the phone from his brother. He's slightly confused as to why his brother is doing this. Why he isn't reaming into him about all the shit that he knows. But he takes the change, even if he knows it won't last. Dean soon hears a woman's voice coming through the cell phone, a voice he's never heard before.

"John, it's Ellen...again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me." Ellen says.

Dean hands the cell phone back to his brother, not sure what to say. So he leaves the conversation in Sam's court. It's a little nerve raking, but it help Dean stay focused at the moment.

"That message is four months old." Sam states.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asks.

"Yeah." The conversation isn't exactly going how Sam's planned, but...Sam doesn't know what else to do at this point.

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" Dean asks, getting a little calmer. No more panic pressing against his chest. But Dean remains cautious. Knowing at any time Sam can flip the conversation.

"No. But I ran a trace on the phone number, and I got an address." Sam states.

Dean thinks about it, he doesn't really know what his brother expects to achieve with this. But maybe this is the break he's been asking for, the thing that will get them back into hunting, back to ignoring everything else. Even if it's without the Impala for a little while.

"Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars." Dead finally says.

"All right. Um...why don't you get ready to go then, and we'll head out in ten?" Sam says before turning around to leave. He stops though, wanting to say so much. But instead of turning back and forcing a painful conversation onto his brother, he walks towards the house.

Sam finds Bobby in the kitchen. He knows Bobby must have seen him go outside, must know he talked to his brother.

"Hey Bobby?" Sam says, as they both meet at the table and take a seat across from each other.

"Talk to your brother?" Bobby asks, knowing he probably won't like the answer. He's given Sam his space after the blow out between the brother's a couple nights ago. But he feels like he can smack them both right now.

"I told him about the message on Dad's phone, so we were going to check that lead out. So, I was wondering do you have a car that's running. You're car kind of crapped out on me the other day, while I was heading back from the pharmacy, getting a couple more of Dean's prescriptions, even if he won't admit that he needs them. Despite the fact that his first bottles of each are almost out...anyways...um, I'm guessing you haven't fixed the car, so..." Sam realizing he's rambling, but he doesn't know what else to say. He knows that's not what Bobby meant, he knows that Bobby was hoping that he talked to his brother about other things.

"Yeah, I have something for you boys. You're brother's not going to like it, but hell if I care." Bobby replies, hating the situation the boys have created. He promised Sam he wouldn't approach Dean, and he's lived up to that promise for the last couple days, but he can't keep this up forever. Not with the amount of pain that it's causing Sam, even if he refusing to talk about anything anymore.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." Sam's about to get up, but Bobby continues to talk, so he settles down. Knowing he's probably going to get a lecture.

"I'm guessing you're still givin' your brother space? You didn't talk to him about anything but the hunt, did you?" Bobby asks, a little harsh.

"I brought up Dad, but he just deflected it, and well...was sarcastic. I can't blame him really, he was never that open with his emotions before all this, it shouldn't really surprise me that he's..." Sam is cut off by Bobby.

"Quit cutting that boy slack! He don't deserve it. Not when it's causing you this much pain." Bobby snaps.

Sam is surprised, he didn't think Bobby was going to be angry. But he really shouldn't be surprised, he knew the touch love was going to seep through any day now. He only though it would have happened right off the bat, so that he wouldn't get used to a Bobby he's never known before. A caring man, who listened to him even when he was bawling his eyes out.

"I know! Okay! I want to talk to him, I do, you have no idea. But I can't. He'd only push me away that much harder. And I don't think I can handle that Bobby. So if this is the only answer. If focusing on the hunt will give my brother some space, maybe even some peace, then so be it. Then maybe...I donno, maybe he'll learn to trust me again." Sam finished, defeated, all anger gone.

Bobby lets out a sigh, he hates this. He hates the mess that these boys are in. "I'm sorry Sam, I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"No, it's okay. Look, if this doesn't pan out. If we're back here with nothing, and if we're back to sorting through Dad's research and Dean ignoring everything by working on the car...then I'll talk to him, okay? I just...I want to give him a little more time to come to me first, okay? Even if that's never going to happen, I just...I don't know what else to do." Sam replies, saddened by the state that he and his brother are in. He knows he's only fooling himself. He knows Bobby doesn't believe him.

"Okay. I'll get the keys. I'll show you and Dean to the only running vehicle I'm able to give you both." Bobby replies, as he gets up and leaves the room.

Sam curses himself, and follows. Everything starting to become too much.

Meanwhile, upstairs Dean backs up his bag. The last thing that's left in the room, are his two pill bottles. Both of which only have a few pills left. He's been dreading the moment that he'd run out, that he'd have to ask his brother for more. The pain isn't that bad, it's almost not there at all. But the panic, and anxiety is almost a constant.

Dean throws the pills into his bag and leaves the room, not wanting to think about it. He just needs to get everything back to normal. Be on the road again, back to the hunt. Back to saving people. And back to killing those that need to be killed, monsters.

Dean, however, wished that Bobby could have given them a better ride. But Bobby insists that what they are currently riding in is the only working vehicle on his lot. Dean really doesn't believe him, but nothing he can really do about it. He's barely talked to Bobby the entire week, and he knows that Sam has. He's not sure how much the older man knows, and he really doesn't want to find out.

So Dean focuses on the road. Focuses on getting to the location, and talking to this Ellen chick that he's heard nothing about before today.

Dean was surprised when Sam remained quiet the whole ride, didn't say a word. It makes Dean actually a little uncomfortable. Dean knew that Sam was now up to date on all Dean's dirty little secrets, so why isn't he forcing a conversation on him? They are trapped in a car together, it's the perfect opportunity. Yet nothing.

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So their first impression of the Roadhouse wasn't quiet accurate, and Dean soon found himself holding an ice back up to his noise. He really doesn't like the fact that the person that got him into this situation, is a small little girl. And Ellen doesn't make Dean any more comfortable. But Sam wanted to check this lead out, hell, so did Dean.

Dean is still unsure of what to make of Sam's change in mood. But he can't focus on that right now. He can't let the room fill up with an uncomfortable silence, not with this many people standing around. Since Sam doesn't seem up to it, Dean takes the opportunity to start the conversation in the right direction.

"You called our dad and said you could help...help with what?" Dean asks as he continues to hold the ice pack to his face.

"Well...the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it." Ellen replies, standing next to her daughter.

Dean wanted to cringe. Hating the fact that no one, besides his brother, Bobby and himself, knew about their father's situation. He didn't realize it would hurt this bad. So he continues on the only thing he knows, the only other way he knows how to cope with this kind of pain. Hold on to the anger, or the sarcasm, or the job. Any wall that doesn't involve having to find some lame excuse to go carve another couple lines into his flesh.

"Was there an article in the Demon Hunter's Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?" So anger and sarcasm it is. Sure, not the best approach to new people, but it's all Dean can do at the moment. Especially with his brother becoming suddenly silent.

"Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once." Ellen replies.

"Oh, yeah? How come he's never mentioned you before?" Dean nearly snaps.

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen defends, not wanted to get angry at the two boys in front of her, not yet anyways.

Dean puts more pressure on his bruising face, trying to distract himself from the pain. He knew this was going to happen. He needs the conversation to stay focused.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asks, a little coldly.

Ellen's patience is wearing thin. "Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..."

Dean feels his chest begin to tighten. He doesn't want Ellen to ask what he can only assume is about to come. He can't take much more of this, and he sees the change in Ellen. He knows.

"He didn't send you." She watches as both the boys look down sadly. "He is all right, isn't he?"

Sam doesn't need to look up at his brother to know that this is probably causing him a lot of pain as well. And he's stayed quiet this long, he might as well start talking now. Save his brother the pain.

"No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um..just got him before he got it, I guess." Sam replies, sadly. He didn't realize how hard it was going to be to tell new people about their father. They've been so isolated the past week.

"I'm so sorry." Ellen says, sadly as well. She's never met the boys, but she knew that they were all close.

"It's okay. We're all right." Dean finally looks up again, not wanting the pity party to continue. Needing to get the conversation back on track.

Sam knows if Ellen pushes, it isn't going to end well. He knows that his brother wants this conversation to stay on track just as much as he does. But he also worries what Dean might do if he feels like he's being backed into a corner.

"Really. I know how close you and your dad..." Ellen doesn't get to finish, and it really shouldn't surprise her. She knew John once, knew how stubborn he was. Shouldn't surprise her that Dean is the same.

"Really, lady, I'm fine." Dean states strongly, even though his voice shows more of his pain than he wanted to show.

Sam feels tears stinging his eyes with the pain he hears in Dean's voice. He knows Dean's trying to suppress and ignore everything, and it's seriously killing Sam. And Sam wills his tears away. And luckily Sam can tell that Ellen has no intention of pushing the conversation any more, so Sam takes the opportunity to steer the conversation back to why they came to Ellen in the first place.

"So, look, if you can help...we could use all the help we can get." Sam voices, not being able to look at his brother just yet. He thought this would help, but it isn't yet.

"Well, we can't. But Ash will." Ellen informs them.

"Who's Ash?" Sam asks.

"Ash!" Ellen shouts.

A man who is sleeping on the pool table, wakes up, startled. He nearly falls off the table. His hair is a very long mullet, that sways around his face as he tries to get his bearings.

"What? Closin' time?" Ash shouts, still not facing that ground. Still disoriented.

"That's Ash?" Sam asks, a little confused.

"Mm-hmm. He's a genius." Jo finally speaks, with a smirk.

So Sam and Dean join Ash at the bar. Sam places a thick folder in front of Ash, that contains their father's research.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me. This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean states, finally feeling a little relaxed.

Ash chuckles. "I like you."

"Thanks." Dean replies, smile on his face.

Sam wants to just laugh. It feels so normal, but it isn't...it can't be.

"Just give him a chance." Jo calls out, snapping Sam out of his thoughts.

So Dean sits down next to Ash, and slides the folder to him. Sam doesn't really know what to do so he just stays standing, next to his brother.

"All right. This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so, uh...let's see what you make of it." Dean doesn't really believe Ash can crack what his brother couldn't for the past week.

Ash opens the folder and begins to look through the stack of papers. "Come on. This crap ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

Sam and Dean exchange a look, neither of them sure what to say. A month ago, this might have been a look of understanding. But not now. Too much has changed. They've both been through too much, both learned too much about each other. Well, Sam's learnt too much about Dean.

"Our dad could." Sam finally says. He thought this would help, being outside of Bobby's. The little bubble they created around his place. But it doesn't, it only makes the pain worst. But it seems to be helping Dean, unless it's all just an act. It's so hard to tell sometimes.

"These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean...damn. They're signs...omens. If you can track 'em, you can track this demon...you know, like crop failure, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun." Ash rants, still looking over the notes.

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asks, kind of wanting to get away.

"Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time. Uh, give me...fifty-one hours." Ash replies, as he gathers up the research and begins to walk away.

Sam and Dean are both stunned. Sam has been looking at the research for days now, and nothing. All of a sudden this guy takes one look at it, and bam!

"Hey, man." Dean calls out to Ash, snapping Sam out of yet another trance.

"Yeah?" Ash turns around to face the brothers.

"By the way, I, uh...I dig the haircut." Dean says.

"All business up front, party in the back." Ash explains as he tosses his hair back.

Ash then leaves the room, leaving Sam and Dean alone again with Ellen and Jo. Sam then notices a folder sitting on the counter behind Ellen.

"Hey, Ellen, what's that?" Sam asks, hoping it's something that can distract him even more. This outing wasn't really panning out like he hoped so far.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on thing..." Ellen replies as he looks towards what Sam was pointing at, but Sam cuts her off. He knows that, but he wasn't pointing at the scanner.

"No, no, no, no. The folder." Sam asks.

Ellen walks over and picks up the folder. She seems hesitant, but brings the folder back to Sam. "Uh...I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want."

"Thanks." Sam replies as he begins to look through the folder.

Sam is a little uneasy leaving his brother alone with Jo, but she seems nice enough. And he knows Dean would kill him if he kept too close an eye on his brother. Even though that's what he wants to do. So he lets Dean sit down at another table in the bar, with Jo.

"How'd your mom get into this stuff, anyway?" Dean asks Jo.

"My dad. He was a hunter. He passed away." Jo says, a hint of pain in her voice, but only a small one.

"I'm sorry." Dean wants to kick himself, why did the conversation have to get awkward so fast. He just wanted a break.

"It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad." Jo says, sincerity in her voice, making Dean very uncomfortable.

"Yeah...So, I guess I got fifty-one hours to waste. Maybe tonight, we should, uh...no, you know what, never mind." Fuck, he doesn't even feel like flirting, what's wrong with him. Everything is so messed up. He knows there's a good change, that even if he can flirt his way into bed with Jo, that nothing would happen beyond that. After the whole Cassie incident, Dean's not too keen on trying that out again. But now...he can't even put on the act.

"What?" Jo asks, obviously knowing where Dean wanted the conversation to lead.

"Nothin', just, uh...wrong place, wrong time." Dean replies, hoping the young girl will believe it all has to do with the so recently loss of his father. Even though it's so much more than that.

"You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pickup line." Jo says, smile on her face, and Dean just scoffs. "Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some pizza, a six-pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV."

"What a bunch of scumbags." Dean replies, sheepishly. He has to admit, over a year ago, that would have been him. Well, the talk would have been him a couple weeks ago, but he just wouldn't have been able to deliver if Jo actually went along with it.

"But not you?" Jo asks, almost flirtatious herself.

"I guess not." Dean replies, getting the impression that Jo would have definitely helped him kill time during the fifty-one hours. So he's thankful when he hears Sam call him away.

"Dean, come here. Check this out." Sam calls out.

"Yeah." Dan walks over to Sam, away from Jo.

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of...looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam explains to his brother, pretty pleased. He wanted there to be a hunt involved, and he got one. Finally something to take his mind off everything.

"Yeah, so?" Dean replies, a little confused.

"So, I told her we'd check it out."

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Dean is now back behind the wheel of the minivan. Sam continues to look through the file he took from the Roadhouse. Dean is surprised, mainly at his brother's insistence on taking the case. Sure, he's wanted a case for the last few days, something to hunt, something to kill. But this isn't what he expected. The hunt sounded ridiculous, not to mention how eager Sam was to take it.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me. A killer clown?" Dean finally says, needing to voice his disbelief. He'll address the other issues later, but this...he can't keep quiet about.

"Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents...ripped them to pieces, actually." Sam informs his brother, keeping his eyes on the pages in front of him. He knows Dean must be confused and frustrated by his new found enthusiasm with the hunt. But Sam doesn't really care, if he's forced to ignore all the other shit, he needs to do this.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asks, slightly ticked off.

"Right, right. The Cooper carnival." Sam continues to keep his attention on the papers.

"So how do you know we're not dealin' with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?" Dean asks, trying to lean on the comedy of the situation as opposed to his anger and frustration.

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearin' down shop...alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are sayin' trama, of course." Sam states.

Dean smirks, he needs to draw on this. It's too easy. Besides, the alternative would only bring on an argument, and Dean can't deal with that at the moment. Sam has too much ammunition.

"I know what you're thinkin', Sam. 'Why did it have to be clowns?'" Dean says, almost laughing.

"Give me a break." Sam replies, finally looking up from the papers in front of him.

"You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out cryin' whenver you see Ronald McDonald on the television." Dean continues, still smiling.

"At least I'm not afraid of flying." Sam snaps back.

"Planes crash!" Dean replies sharply.

"And apparently clowns kill." Sam snaps back, just as sharply.

"So, these types of murders...they ever happen before?" Dean asks, defeated.

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers circus. Same M.O....it happened three different times, three different locales." Sam states, looking down at the papers for the date.

"That's weird, though. I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale...a house or a town." Dean replies, trying to focus on the hunt. He thought this is what he wanted, what he needed. But now, it's all really weird.

"So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam asks, knowing his brother doesn't have the answers. Just putting the question out there.

"Cursed object, maybe? Spirit attaches itself to something, and the carnival carries it around with them." Dean answers, not really sure how else it can happen.

"Great. A paranormal scavenger hunt." Sam replies, with a light chuckle.

"This case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job." Dean finally asks, not able to leave the question solely in his mind any longer.

"So?" Sam asks. Not really sure how to answer the question, it kind of took him off guard.

"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt." Dean replies, keeping out the fact that his brother is just equally as hell-bent on being a pain in his ass with the worry.

"I don't know. I just think takin' this job...it's what Dad would have wanted us to do." Sam replies, it's not completely a lie. But it's not entirely the truth either. But he can't just say that he's doing this because of Dean, that would just cause an argument...bigger than the one that's about to take place.

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asks, unable to believe what he just heard. It wasn't exactly the answer he was expecting.

"Yeah. So?" Sam asks, not wanting to push this any more. He's too tired.

Dean doesn't really know what to say to all this. He didn't expect Sam to suddenly take to the hunt just because their father is gone. He didn't expect his brother to simply ignore everything else. But he can't complain about that last one, not without his brother changing his mind and pushing.

"Nothing." Dean finally says. The car going silent again, as he continues to drive.

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So Dean and Sam stayed on the case. Sam continued to get more and more intense with the hunt, saying things that Dean didn't expect. Always saying he was doing what he thinks their father would want, which just pissed Dean off more and more.

After getting a job at the carnival, and doing some poking around, they didn't find much. Dean was a little annoyed by some of the other employees, especially Barry, the blind man. But Dean was finally able to find out that Mr. Cooper worked with the Bunker Brothers circus before owning the Cooper Carnival. That was the only lead they got.

Finally Dean got to do some shooting, but it didn't turn out like either of the boys thought. They were both pretty sure they were now thought as creepy pedophiles by that poor girl's parents. Not to mention that Dean's shot hit something solid.

So now, they've hidden the car off the side of a road. Dean's pretty sure that no one saw the plates, but really why risk it. Not to mention that Dean really doesn't want this car anymore.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asks as they finish hiding away the minivan.

"Why take the chance. Besides, I hate this freakin' thing anyway." Dean replies, as they get their bags out and being to walk down a deserted road. "Well, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?" Sam asks.

"We're not dealin' with a spririt. That rock salt hit somethin' solid." Dean informs his brother.

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam doesn't really know what to expect, he can't really think. He needs something, something to use to do some research. But that would be a little hard, walking in the middle of no where.

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did it say anything in Dad's journal?" Dean asks, bringing up their father still stings a little. Hell, it stings a lot.

"Nope." Sam says, as he pulls out his cell phone and begins to dial a number. They definitely need some help on this one, someone to do some research for them.

"Who you callin'" Dean asks.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know somethin'. Hey, you think, uh..you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?" Sam asks, putting the phone to his ear. He listens to the ringing as they continue to talk. Besides the little arguments about their father, and Sam's reasonings behind wanted to do this hunt. It's been nice lately, them talking, them hunting again.

"No way." Dean replies, not sure why Sam would ask that.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Okay, so it's not really the topic Sam wanted to be on. But...well, it's better then the silence he's used to when they're at Bobby's.

"I don't know. Maybe they had some sort of fallin' out." Dean is getting a little tired of this conversation. He knows that this last week must have been hard on Sam, and he really hasn't helped any. But this...

"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a fallin' out with just about everybody?" Sam asks, but Dean says nothing. Sam doesn't get an answer at this point, so he closes his phone. "Don't get all maudlin on me, man."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, noticing that Sam no longer has the phone to his ear. Dean really wished Ellen picked up, would have been a distraction from this conversation that Dean only knows is not going to end well.

"I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It's crap. I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talkin' about, okay. And that week at Bobby's you completely shut me out. Completely. I can give you space on the other things, for now. But this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man." Sam pushes, he needs something...anything. He needs Dean to talk about something, and Dad seems to be the best option because it's something they both have in common.

"You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to..." Dean doesn't get to finish, as Sam continues to talk. Dean really knows this conversation is going to end badly. He can already feel the anger pushing at his chest.

"No, no, no. That's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want make sure you're okay." Sam feels tears stinging his eyes, because he knows that even if his brother talks about the pain he's feeling as a result of their father's death...it doesn't change the rest. His brother isn't okay, and Sam knows that.

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay! I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwin' punches. These are your issues. Quit dumpin' 'em on me." Dean nearly shouts. And Sam stops, so Dean stops as well. He hates that he just said all that, he doesn't know where it came from. But it's all too much.

"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asks, not sure if he heard his brother right. Why would he say that to him.

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, "Oh, what would Dad want me to do?" Sam, you spent your entire life sluggin' it out with that man. I mean, hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late." Dean continues, very angry. He doesn't want to say all this to his brother, he can't stand the pain he's seeing in his brother's eyes. But he still can't stop himself. He can't do this. He can't have this conversation. He can't let his brother get to close, and this is the other thing he knows.

"Why are you sayin' this to me?" Sam asks, trying hard not to cry. He wanted to have this conversation, he shouldn't be surprised that his brother would be angry and push him away. But he didn't expect this.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I'm dealin' with Dad's death! Are you?" Dean shouts. Hating himself right now. He hates the tears that are forming in his brother's eyes, knowing he's the cause.

Sam feels the tears continues to build, but he also feels anger. He doesn't want to say something he'd regret, and he can feel that coming. "I'm gonna call Ellen again."

Sam walks away from his brother, and takes out his cell phone again. He dials Ellen's number, and is glad that she answers this time.

Dean waits where he is, giving his brother some space. He feels tears start to well up in his eyes over everything he just said, and everything else that's going through his mind. His father's voice yelling in his head, those last words he spoke.

Dean feels his hands start to shake, who is he kidding, he isn't dealing with his father's death. He's just a hypocrite. He feels his hands start to shake harder, and his stomach starts doing flip flops. He feels like he's going to be sick.

Dean looks over towards his brother, and is thankful that Sam is keeping his back to Dean. Dean can tell Sam finally got a hold of Ellen. So Dean drops his bag to the ground, and start looking through it. Finally he finds his pills, he takes two anti-anxiety pills without water. He hates that they work. He hates that he's becoming dependent on them. But he can't freak out, not now, not with his brother so close. No walls separating them now.

After a couple minutes, Sam rejoins Dean. He clearly wrapping up the conversation with Ellen.

"Thanks a lot." Sam hangs up the phone. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" Dean asks, barely paying much attention. His mind numb, not because of the drugs, but because he doesn't want to think anymore. He can't right now, it's all too much.

"Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited to." Sam informs his brother, keeping everything on the hunt. The pain in his chest too strong to do anything else.

"They dress up like clown, and children invite 'em in." Dean continues, it all starts making sense. And Dean is thankful that the hunt is starting to make sense. He can focus on the hunt, he can to that now. It makes him feel a little more normal, not like this walking zombie that he sometimes forces himself to be.

"Yeah." Sam starts walks, so Dean follows. They need to get back to the carnival.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asks.

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Sam feels himself shutting down, and he wonders if this is what his brother feels like. But unless he wants to break down again, and this time on the side of the road with an emotional blocked sibling, he needs to do this.

"What else you find out?" Dean asks.

"Well, apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects." Sam informs his brother.

"Nice." Dean replies. It should be a little disgusting, but it does help.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty to thirty years...slow metabolism, I guess." Sam continues.

"That makes sense...the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81." Dean continues to put the pieces together. Feeling himself pull his old self back into place.

"Right. Probable more before that."

"Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?"

"Copper?" Sam asks, not knowing if there was someone else they missed.

"Cooper." Dean confirms.

"You know, that picture of his father...that looked just like him." Sam replies, wondering if it's possible.

"You think maybe it was him?" Dean asks.

"Well, who knows how old he is?" Sam continues.

"Ellen say how to kill them?" Dean asks, knowing she probably did.

"Legend goes a dagger made of pure brass." Sam tells him.

"I think I know where to get one of those." Dean says, thinking back to the knifes the blind man, Barry, was throwing when they first showed up.

"Well, before we go stabbin' things into Cooper, we're gonna wanna make damn sure it's him." Sam replies. He can't really think who else it could be, but what if they were wrong. Wouldn't really be the first time.

"Oh, you're such a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean says, falling back into old habits.

Sam can't help but smile at that, and he wants to believe it. He wants to just forget everything he's learned, everything that's happened. But it's all still there.

"All right, I'll round up the blade. You go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

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So Cooper wasn't the bad guy, surprise...surprise. But at least the monster is now dead, Barry's dead. It was a little touch and go for a while there, but they pulled through...like they always do.

Dean just wanted to get back to his car, get back to ignoring the world outside Bobby's place. But his brother insisted that they go back to the roadhouse. They did need to talk to Ash regardless, see what he got.

"You boys did a hell of a job. Your dad would be proud." Ellen tells the boys.

"Thanks." Sam replies, as Jo joins them.

Jo stares at Sam, wanting him to leave. Dean, however, is staring at his hands. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be around these people. For some reason, Sam leaves him alone with Jo. Dean has a feeling that Jo is attracted to him, but he can't even fake it right now. It's too much, too soon.

"Oh, yeah. I've got to, uh...I've got to go...over there...right now." Sam says, as he leaves.

If Dean were in his right mind, he's make fun of his brother. If he were desperate, he'd ask him to stay. But he can't, not in front of all these people. He'll just have to push through it. He can do this, he's been faking for the past year. Their father's death shouldn't be the thing to stop that, he should be able to move past all this. Why can't he?

"So." Jo says, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.

"So." Dean says, not sure what else to say.

"Am I gonna see you again?" Jo asks, smile on her face.

"Do you want to?" Dean asks, not really feeling it. He should want to jump into bed with her, she's attractive enough. But...he can't risk it. He can't put himself in that situation again.

"I wouldn't hate it." Jo continues to smile, she's clearly flirting with him.

Dean can't do this anymore. He sure can't tell her the truth, but being vague sometimes works.

"Can I be honest with you? See, normally, I'd be hittin' on you so fast, it's make your head spin. But, uh...these days...I don't know." Dean tries to smile, but he's not sure she'll fall for it.

"Wrong place, wrong time?" She smiles again, and Dean hates the situation he's in. "It's okay, I get it."

And Dean wants to tell her that she really doesn't. She doesn't get it. How can she? She only knows the surface, only knows the lose.

Ash enters the room with his laptop, and Dean wants to thank him. Because this means no more talking, no more uncomfortable pauses.

"Where you guys been? I been waitin' for you." Ash says as he enters.

"We were working a job, Ash." Sam says, but Ash only stares at him. As if he has no idea what he's talking about. "Clowns?"

"Clowns? What the..." Ash looks around the room, expecting someone to explain more. But instead he sets his laptop next to Dean. Sam approaches.

"You got somethin' for us, Ash?" Dean asks, as Sam stands next to him.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asks.

"It's nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it live divine on dog dookie." Ash replies.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, not understanding a thing Ash is saying.

"I mean any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm." Ash explains as several different programs open up on his laptop.

"You mind?" Dean asks, fascinated with what he's seeing. Confused, but still fascinated. He goes to touch the laptop, but he stops when he sees Ash glaring at him. Dean smirks, and moves his hand away. It's like his brother and his laptop, but a little less aggressive. Sam lets him touch his laptop, on occasion.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asks, also completely fascinated.

"M.I.T.. before I got bounced...for fighting." Ash replies.

"M.I.T.?" Sam asks, completely surprised.

"It's a school in Boston." Ash replies, thinking Sam never heard of the place.

Sam wants to protest but Dean starts talking. Dean wants to laugh, but he can't.

"Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?" Dean states, taking one last swig of his beer.

"Si, si, compadre." Ash replies, as Dean gets off his chair.

Dean and Sam start walking towards the door, but stop as Ellen starts talking to them.

"Hey, listen. If you boys need a place to stay, I got a couple beds out back." Ellen tells the boys.

"Thanks, but no. There's somethin' I gotta finish." Dean replies, wanting to get back to Bobby's.

"Okay." Ellen says, as the boys leave.

The trip back to Bobby's is completely silent, both boys completely exhausted.

Once they get to Bobby's, Dean doesn't say a word. He just goes upstairs, and hops into the shower. Bobby is sitting in the kitchen when they arrive. Sam looks over at Bobby, and just shakes his head before heading upstairs as well.

As the shower continues to run, Sam goes into his room to get the prescriptions of Dean's that he picked up earlier. He brings them to Dean's room, knowing that he won't ask about them. Sam then numbly makes his way back downstairs.

Sam collapses into the chair across from Bobby, and smiles when he sees a cup of coffee now sitting across from him.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam chokes out, feeling tears filling his eyes fast.

"Boy, what happened?" Bobby asks, seeing the tears starting to form.

Sam doesn't understand why the emotions are boiling over so quickly. He's gotten so comfortable around Bobby lately, and he hates that he's unloading so much on the man.

"Nothing, everything is fine." Sam starts to drink his coffee. He no longer wants to be a burden. If his brother is so stubborn as to deal with everything on his own, he should be able to keep it to himself.

"So I ignore the tears now? Is that it? Damn it Sam, I told you your not being a bother." Bobby says, and hates the fact that Sam flinches at his words.

A couple tears make their way down Sam's face, and he brushes them away as quickly as he can. He hates this, completely.

"I thought the hunt would be a good thing, and it was...at times. But, Bobby...I donno, he's still...he isn't talking to me. He's so angry. It hurts, Bobby, it feels like...I donno." Sam slumps back in his chair. Feeling completely drained.

"I know, I brought this up before but..." Bobby takes some paper out of his pocket, and sliding it across the table towards Sam.

Sam looks at the paper, and instantly knows what's on it. It's the number for some psychiatrists in town. Sam just shakes is head, he can't talk to a stranger. He doesn't know why Bobby is pushing these at him.

"I can't Bobby. People like us can't talk to shrinks, they would lock us up for sure. What would I talk to them about." Sam feels the tears continue to build, and he wants to hit something.

"I'm not saying to spill all your guts, of course you can't tell them about what you do. But a lot of what's happening, that has nothing to do with our job. Nothing to do with the supernatural world. It's grief, and what's happening with your brother. I'm still not pushing you away Sam, you can still talk to me about anything. But I just think...if you're brother continues to push you away like he has been, I don't want you to break under it all Sam." Bobby hates the situation the boys are in. Hates what Dean is doing, even if part of him can understand it.

More tears run down Sam's face as he picks up the paper. He finally really looks at the names on the paper, two different names and numbers. Two options. A third would be to do nothing. Sam knows Bobby isn't pushing him away, just giving him another option. And Sam really doesn't want to bother Bobby anymore, despite what the man tells him. So if he no longer wants to dump his emotional baggage onto Bobby, what other options does he have?

Bobby and Sam sit silently at the table, both not sure what else to say. But struggling with the weight of the emotions that fill the room.

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The following morning, Sam finds Dean outside working his car. They didn't speak last night. Sam just left him alone. He had too much to think about. Sam ended up calling both number, and both had time available today if he decided to come by. He didn't decide for sure, but he had the possibility.

Dean sees Sam approach, and he really wants to focus on the car.

"You were right." Sam states, not wanting to fool around. He just wants to get out what he needs to say, and that's it.

"About what?" Dean asks, already hating the conversation.

"About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinkin' that I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doin' right now...it is too little. It's too late. I can't fix that, and I miss him man. And I feel guilty as hell." Tears start welling up in his eyes, and he really doesn't want to cry now.

Dean stays quiet, he doesn't think he can form any words right now. He's always hating seeing his brother in pain.

"And I'm not all right. Not at all...But neither are you. That much I know. And I can give you space on it, most of it. But you can't expect me to just stand silent on the side lines for the rest of our lives. We are going to have to talk about it, about everything. But...for now...I'll let you get back to work." Sam doesn't wait for Dean to respond, he doesn't want him to. Not yet. So he just leaves. He needs to decide what he's doing with himself, so he goes back inside.

Dean just stands there, letting the words sink in. His brother is still putting up with his shit, why? Why is he doing all this? Everything is too much, and Dean feels the shaking starting again. And damn it, this can't happen now. He doesn't have his pills on him, working on his car is suppose to be his safe place.

He can't let the panic win, he can't have a panic attack out here. But the voices, and the images are already flooding his mind. Tears welling up in his eyes. And he feels weak, and he hates it. He's weak, he's pathetic. He picks up a tire iron from the ground, and barely thinks about it.

He turns to the car next to him, and smashes the window. He doesn't care, and he's unaware of the noise that travels to the house. Unaware that he's gotten Bobby and Sam's attention inside the house.

Dean doesn't waste anytime, because the window wasn't enough. It doesn't shut out the pain, and the voices, and the pictures in his mind. He moves over to the Impala and swings the tire iron down, crashing it into the trunk of the car. He does it over and over again. It's not enough, and he puts more and more force behind each blow.

Sam and Bobby run into the yard, but Dean doesn't hear them he's too focused on trying to get it all out. Needed to ride his body of everything that's trying to kill him. He feels like he's dying. Why can't the voices stop. Why can't he just forget. Forget everything he's lost, everything that's happened to him.

Sam wants to stop him, but Bobby holds him back. Sam looks to Bobby, not sure what to do. Bobby just shakes his head. He knows this must be painful for Sam, but if this is what Dean needs. Sam needs to see it, needs to see what's happening to his brother, in it's entirety.

Dean then lets go of the tire iron, holding it now only with one hand. Placing the other on the trunk of the car. Dean then brings the tire iron down onto his hand, and barely feels the pain.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, but Bobby holds onto Sam's arm.

"Don't Sam." Bobby warns, worried that Dean's too far gone. That he could hurt Sam without wanted to.

Dean brings the tire iron down again, but this time the end of the iron cuts into his hand. Right between the index finger and the thumb. Blood instantly dripping onto the car. The cut continues to bleed onto the car, and Dean drops the tire iron.

Sam turns away from his brother, tears running down his face. He doesn't know how to help his brother. And clearly what he said earlier sparked all this.

Bobby then moves towards Dean, softly and gently placing his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean jumps and turns towards Bobby. Bobby can see the wide range on emotions on Dean's face.

"Let's get you inside and take a look at that hand, okay?" Bobby says, remain calm.

"I'm okay." Dean says, just wanting to get back to his car.

"Stop bein' an idjit, and let me help you." Bobby forcefully grabs Dean's hand, and Dean shouts out in pain. "See, you're not fine."

Bobby looks at the hand, and luckily it's not broken. It looks like the trunk of the car took most of Dean's force and anger. But the cut definitely needs stitches. Blood now running down Dean's arm, soaking into Dean's long sleeved shirt.

"Come on. It's not broken, you're lucky. But you need stitches on this cut." Bobby says, as they turn towards the house.

They both stop as they see Sam walking quickly towards the house.

"I'm fucking everything up." Dean finally says, pain evident in his voice.

"Yes you are." Bobby replies, walking towards the house, pulling Dean with him. He's sick of this shit. He's not giving Dean the same side of him that he's given Sam, he doesn't deserve it.

Bobby brings Dean into the kitchen, and they don't see Sam anywhere. He must be upstairs.

"Wait here." Bobby grabs a t-towel. "Put pressure on the hand."

Bobby leaves the kitchen as Dean takes a seat. Bobby walks upstairs and grabs a first aid kit from a closet in the upstairs closet. He then goes to Sam's room, and finds him laying on the bed, curled up in a tight ball. He's shaking, trying to suppress the sobs.

"Sam?" Bobby calls out softly.

Sam slowly stretches out, and sits up. He's wiping at his face before he turns to face Bobby. Tears are still running down his face.

"His hand's fine, I'm just going to stitch up a cut on his hand." Bobby informs him.

"Thanks Bobby, it's...thanks." Sam doesn't know what to say.

"I just wanted to check up on you first." Bobby doesn't really know what else to say, it's all messed up.

"I was thinking, maybe I'd go into town. Um...do you think you can manage Dean for a while. I uh...can I borrow your car? You have it running, right?" Sam asks, feeling a little flustered.

"Yeah, of course. Keys are by the door. Everything okay?" Bobby asks, he hopes Sam's going into town for the reason he suggested the other day, but he wants to be sure.

Tears continue to run down his face, and Sam keeps trying to wipes them off his face, but it doesn't work.

"I uh...I'm going to do what you said. It scares the shit out of me, but I don't know what else to do anymore." Sam walks out of the room, and Bobby follows him down the hall.

"I'm proud of you Sam, and I don't want you to think this means you don't have to talk to me anymore. But just...give it a shot, okay? Give me a call if you need anything at all, okay?" Bobby says, as they make it down the stairs.

"I'll be okay." Sam stands by the door, not sure if he really wants to do this.

"Okay, I'll see you in a few hours then." Bobby pats Sam on the shoulder before heading into the kitchen.

Dean is still sitting at the kitchen table, holding the clothe to his hand.

"He's mad, isn't he?" Dean asks, coldly. He feels completely numb, despite the pain from his hand. He had a feeling Sam probably told Bobby about the cutting, but if he didn't, Bobby probably figured out that Dean's a mess now.

Bobby sighs, and pulls up a chair next to Dean. He sets the kit down, and starts working on Dean's hand as they continue to chat.

"He's not mad, Dean. He's in pain." Bobby finally says, as he starts stitching up Dean's hand. The cut doesn't need many stitches, so the job won't be hard.

"Okay." Dean feels like everything spinning out of control, and he doesn't know how to make anything better.

Both Dean and Bobby remain quiet as Bobby finishes stitching up Dean's hand. Once Bobby closes the first aid kit, and smacks Dean hard across the back of the head. Dean wasn't expecting that at all, and his good hand instantly goes up to rub the spot on his head.

"Ow, what the hell Bobby!" Dean shouts, as he quickly gets off the chair and moves away from Bobby.

Bobby too gets up, and he's not going to back down. He intends to speak his mind. He's been quiet for over a week, because Sam asked him to and he thought it was best. But Sam's out of the house now, and none of this is what's best for either of them.

"What the hell are you thinkin' boy? Bad enough you push that brother of yours away, but you got to do that to yourself? Huh? What would your Dad say about that? Huh?" Bobby shouts.

Dean looks away at mention of their father. Dean has no idea if his dad ever knew about the cutting, but the demon made slight reference to it in the cabin. So it's possible that his dad either knew, or find out because of the demon. But that's not the issue right now. He can't have this conversation, not with Bobby. It's bad enough Sam knows everything, but now Bobby knows too. Well, he at least witness what happened outside.

"Don't." Dean pleads, weakly.

"Don't what Dean? Please, enlighten me! Why would you think it's fair to that brother of yours? Do you know how much of a wreck he's been. Not only because of your father, but because of you. Because he thinks he can't help you. And then he has to find out that you'd rather hurt yourself, cut yourself, then talk to him. How do you think that makes him feel Dean?" Bobby shouts.

Dean walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, he needs to get away. But Bobby follows him.

"Don't walk away from this Dean, we are having this conversation whether you like it our not." Bobby continues, and Dean stops.

Dean can't do this, he can't. Why is Bobby pushing him. Dean slowly turns around to face Bobby, feeling the pain and anger pushing at his chest. He has no idea what Bobby knows.

"What do you want from me?" Dean asks. He feels completely helpless.

"I want you to stop treating your brother like dirt. You ever think that maybe this isn't just about you? That maybe you're brother is in a lot of pain himself." Bobby snaps.

"You think I don't know that. You think I don't see the pain in his eyes everyday? I've been with him for the past year Bobby. You've only been there for him the past week. So don't...don't you dare. I was there for him after Jessica, after he watched his girlfriend burn just like..." Dean's voice cracks, and he feels his hold on the anger stumbling away.

Bobby's anger falters then too, he didn't know much about what happened to get Sam back on the hunt. They only talked about it briefly.

"Fuck!" Dean shouts, new images flooding his mind. Why did he have to bring up Jessica. Bringing up Jessica, then brought back images of his mother, and what he saw that night.

"I'm not saying you have to talk to me, Dean. I know your stubborn, and Sam has felt like a burden unloading on me over the past week. So I can only imagine how much of a pain in the ass your gonna be. But I can't just watch what you're doing to your brother. Whatever happened to you, if you can't get past it, there is nothing wrong with that. This life isn't easy on the best of us." Bobby wants to Dean to just stop everything, and break down those walls he's created. But Bobby knows that's not going to happen.

"Fuck you Bobby! You don't know shit. You think this is all about the job, it isn't. If you knew everything that happened, if you knew all that Sam knew. You wouldn't be standing here offering me a shoulder to lean on. You'd...you're not like my brother. And why he's deluded to the truth is beyond me. But you wouldn't...I can't Bobby. Don't ask me to tell you everything, don't ask me to do that." Dean feels completely drained, he just wants to crash.

"You really think that there is anything you could tell me that would make me change my view of you? You really think that low of me?" Bobby asks, knowing that's not what Dean meant but that's basically the implications that he was sending Bobby's way. He knows Dean suffers from so much, and that it's altered his view of people. And maybe there's nothing he can say to make Dean believe that he wouldn't turn his back on him.

"I can't take that chance Bobby. So if you want to continue to ream me for the shit-job I'm doing as a brother to Sam, you go right ahead. But don't expect this conversation to be two sided." Dean just stands his ground, hoping Bobby will let it go.

"Want some coffee?" Bobby finally asks, knowing there's nothing more he can say.

Dean just nods, numbly. Hoping that coffee means the conversation is over.

Dean sits down as Bobby makes the coffee. That's when Dean notices the paper on the table, the paper with two names and numbers.

"Bobby? What's this?" Dean asks as he picks up the paper, and shows it to Bobby.

Bobby turns to look at the paper. He mentally curses himself, he should have taken the paper off the table last night. He didn't want to be the one to tell Dean this.

"Give me a minute Dean." Bobby says, as he makes the coffee. And Dean waits.

After a moment, Bobby sits down and passes a cup of coffee to Dean and keeps on for himself.

"When we picked you up at the hospital, and the doctors gave me the perscriptions that you have. He also gave me these number, they're for two local psychiatrists, about an hours drive from here. Sam didn't think you'd want to see them, that no matter what you wouldn't talk to anyone. I thought the same, but the doctors really believed you need outside help." Bobby starts, not sure how to tell Dean that Sam is gone to one of these people as they speak.

"Well you'd both be right about that, no way I'm talking to a shrink." Dean replies as he start to drink his coffee.

"I know, even if I agree with the doctors." Bobby knows it's probably not wish to push anymore. Especially now that Dean's armed with a hot beverage.

"I don't need help Bobby." Dean snaps.

"Look, I know something else happened to you. I knew when we dealt with Meg, before everything happened to your father. But I also now, you are too stubborn to seek help yourself. You think you can handle everything yourself, but clearly you can't. And you're not only causes more arm to yourself, but you're also harming your brother in the process" Bobby simply states.

"I'm not talking about it Bobby." Dean states coldly.

"I wasn't asking you too." Bobby continues to drink his coffee, waiting for the question to be asked.

"Okay, then why is this paper sitting here if it's not for me?" Dean asks.

"I kept it, mentioned it to your brother a couple days ago, and then last night as well." Bobby finishes his coffee, and set down the mug.

"Why would Sam need these?" Dean asks, getting a weird feeling in his gut.

"Because you're not the only one hurting Dean, or haven't you been listening. And this ain't just about your daddy. This is about you. I know you brother knows everything. Hell, I only know about the cutting, which, I really want to talk to you about...but it's really not the point right now. Sam is the point. Sam wants to help you, and you won't let him. He doesn't know how to deal with everything. He's lost two important people in his life during the last year. You think he's over Jessica, but he just buried it deep. Your dad, that's fresh. And now Sam feels like he's loosing the last person he truly cares about. You." Bobby states, hoping the words will sink in.

"Where's Sam now?" Dean asks, feeling suddenly nauseous.

"Left a little while ago, he saw your little freak out. Couldn't take it. I let him borrow my car, and he's heading into town now. I don't know if he'll actually go through with it. But I hope he does. That boy needs someone to listen to him, and if you won't pull your head outta your ass, then maybe some stranger will be what Sam needs right now. Sam actually believes you don't trust him anymore. That's what he believes. So why don't you think about that for awhile. I have some stuff to do." Bobby gets up and leaves the kitchen, not wanted to put any more pressure on the conversation. He doesn't really want to leave Dean alone. He knows Sam has been keeping a close eye on his brother every since finding out about the cutting, but Bobby feels like he's only going to make matters worst. He's too angry.

Dean just sits at the kitchen table. Completely shocked. His brother is on his way to talk to a shrink. That's how far he's pushed him away. Dean can't take it. He feels everything boiling over. He can't stay in this room. Too many temptations.

Dean rushes upstairs, and notices for the first time that Sam left his more pills. Probably not a good thing. Dean opens one of them and takes two pills. Two pills for the pain. He then opens the second bottle, pauses, and takes four pills for anxiety. He knows he shouldn't take that much, but four's not enough to do much damage. And he really needs to calm down. Need to feel nothing at all. Needs to shut down to everything else.

Dean wants to just rest, but he can't. He knows what's waiting for him every time his head touches the pillow. Every time he closes his eyes. So instead, he heads back out to the Impala.

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Sam finally makes it into town, tears still running down his face. He's surprised he made it. He had to pull over every once in awhile to try and calm down. But the tears wouldn't stop. They should dry out soon, he really doesn't want to step out of the car like this.

Sam parks in front of a building, and wipes the tears from his face. His tears have finally slowed down, but he still feels like he's breaking. Not only breaking for himself, but also for his brother.

Can he really do this? Can he really step into this office and talk to a completely stranger?

Sam feels paralyzed. Completely terrified of what's behind the doors a head of them. But he can't keep unloaded his problems on Bobby, not without telling him everything. And that would destroy Dean. But with a psychiatrist, they can't tell a soul. So maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's the only way. The only option Sam has until his brother is able to trust him again.

Sam takes a deep breath, he needs to make a decision.

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So? What did you think? **REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

I know this chapter wasn't as heavy as the last one, but hopefully you all still enjoyed it. The angst and hurt/comfort will only continue to grow until it explodes.

Bloodlust is next. But I wanted to know what you wanted to see next. Should Sam talk to someone? Do you want to see his session? Let me know, because I haven't completely made up my mind about that yet.

Thanks.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

**Review Response**:

_Hogaboom_: Thanks for the kind review. Hope you keep enjoying the story, and reviewing. Hope you enjoy Chapter 15.

Also, thanks to _J-09_ for your kind reviews.

So sorry for the long wait, I wanted to get this out sooner but had a hard time getting in the zone. Hope the chapter was worth the wait.

No major warnings, only slight reference to self-harm.

Again, I self-edited. All mistakes are my own.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 15. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 15 - BLOODLUST**

Sam sits in the car Bobby gave him, completely numb to the world around him. The tears have dried on his face, and he continues to stare at the building in front of him. He finally looks at the clock to see he's been sitting here for almost an hour. Sam just shakes his head.

A decision needs to be made, and needs to be done soon. When he called this specific office, they told him they had a four hour opening for walk ins. Something about the hospital sends over a lot of people, or something like that. Sam's wasted nearly an hour of his open window. Sure there's still three hours for him to decide, well...technically two.

Finally, after another twenty minutes, Sam takes a deep breath and opens the car door. He just sits there, not sure what to do. At least he took one step in the right direction though.

Can he really do this? Can he really walk into this office and confess all his issues to a person he's never met before today? Bigger question is...can he go in there and confess all of Dean's dark secrets? Sam needs a way to get all this off his chest, or he's going to suffocate. He really doesn't understand how his brother is still able to function. And unless Sam wants to spill everything to Bobby, on purpose or not, he needs to tell somebody. Needs to figure out a way to cope with everything that's happened to him, everything he's lose, and everything his brother is going through and ignoring.

Forty minutes later Sam finally finds himself sitting in the waiting room. He's already talked to the receptionist, and was told it would be another ten to twenty minutes. Sam gave them the name he used at the hospital. Or well, the name their father used. Seemed logical enough. The crash is going to be brought up, and Sam can't take the change that this psychiatrist has heard about it and knows he's trying to pass off a different name. Better to be safe. Even if it's painful.

Sam is unaware of how much time passes, but he soon finds himself in a new room. Sitting on a small comfy couch as an older man walks around his desk.

"Sam McGillicuddy?" The doctor read off the name he had clearly written on a blank piece of paper in his note book. He pulls his chair around his desk to sit in front of Sam.

Sam's surprised the doctor isn't sitting behind his desk, but he doesn't question it. He's never really done this before, well...besides times it was necessary because of a job. But that doesn't really count.

"Yes, that's me." Sam tries to get comfortable in his seat, but he's actually never nervous. Also extremely uncomfortable. He has no idea what to say to the man sitting in front of him.

"Well I'm Doctor Kane, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. We have an hour, and we can discuss anything you'd like Mr. McGillicuddy." Dr. Kane tells Sam, giving him a warm smile.

"Thanks, uh...Sam is fine. You don't have to...I uh... I don't really know how to do this." Sam replies, letting out a small nervous laugh. He just wants to bolt, and confess everything to Bobby or bottle it all away. But both options would kill him.

"That's alright...Sam. Uh...McGillicuddy...that name sounds very familiar. Have you called to make an appointment in the past, but never came through until today?" The doctor asks.

"Um...I uh...never called in before the other day, but it's possible you heard my name before. The doctors at the hospital had a pretty high opinion about talking to someone. He well...gave me the numbers of another psychiatrist as well as yourself. It was more for my brother, but he did also say that I would benefit." Sam replies in a rush.

"Okay, we'll get to the hospital thing in a moment, but you have a brother?" The doctor thinks for a moment, and Sam's unsure if he should reply. But the doctor talks again first. "You're brother wouldn't happen to be Dean, would he?"

Sam is surprised by the fact the doctor knows Dean's name, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he shouldn't. He knew the doctors worried about Dean so much more than himself. Especially with the panic attack, and the cuts. Sure Sam covered for his brother at the time, but that doesn't mean the doctors believed him. Hell, he didn't believe himself.

"Yeah, my brother's name is Dean? How did you know that? Did the doctors at the hospital call you? What did they tell you?" Sam rambles off a bunch of questions, knowing he should just take a calming breath. But he hates this feeling. Why would the doctors go behind his back like this.

"Calm down Sam, they didn't tell me much. They just tend to give me the heads up when they get some rough cases in. All they gave me was your brother's name, and they said that they hoped he'd be calling me in the near future. Just that something big happened, and that I should keep an eye out for him. But they know that I keep a four hour window for walk-ins just because of the hospital and the nature of some of their patients. Now, I read about what happened in the paper, but I'd like you to explain to me what happened, if you could. Just what got you and your brother into the hospital. We'll get to the why's later. Okay?" The doctor remained calm through out his entire little speech, and it helped. He wasn't pushing, and he wasn't accusing anything. He was just there to listen, and possibly help.

"Okay." Sam felt slightly more relaxed now. But at the same time, thinking back to the crash and what came after made Sam suddenly sick. He suddenly no longer wants to be here. Bobby seeing him like this was one thing, but now this stranger. This person that's trying to be kind and helpful, even if it's his job, needs to see him like this?

Sam doesn't know how long he just sits there, trying to put a handle on his emotions. But finally the doctor speaks up. "Just take your time, Sam. I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to listen, and hopefully help you."

Sam takes a deep breath, smiling briefly before he begins. The doctor is helping, he is calmer than when he first arrived but he still feels nervous. Nervous that he's betraying his brother somehow by behind here. But Dean won't talk to him. And he's leaned on Bobby more than he should. So what else is there?

"Um...a couple weeks ago my brother, Dean, my dad, and myself, we all...uh, we were in a pretty bad car accident. I'm not really sure what happened with the driver, or what they ruled the accident as. I was a little occupied with other things. Um...I had very minor injuries. Doctors said I was lucky. But my brother, he was in a come. Doctors weren't overly optimistic that he would ever wake up. But he did, he proved the doctors wrong. But my dad, who they thought was fine, out of the woods. He had some complications shortly after my brother woke up. He didn't...uh, he died. So, doctors, they didn't really know how to describe what happened, But Dean's fine. He actually didn't have to stay in the hospital that long after he woke up. Um...we, uh...We've been spending time now at a close friend's place. He owns a salvage yard, so Dean's rebuilding his car and I'm here. So..." Sam finished, not sure what else to say. It hurt to talk about the crash, he barely brought it up to Bobby. But here he is, talking to someone who's job it is to pry into issues. And Sam knows that the doctor is going to push him. He didn't really go into any emotions just now, just facts.

_Any second now_, Sam anticipated. And the doctor barely wasted any time doing just that.

"Yes, I remember reading about that accident. It sounded terrible, and I can't imagine living it was very easy for you Sam. So, why don't you tell me how you feel about it? You like to stick to the facts I see, but that's not going to get us to why you decided to come here today." The doctor says, still holding his notebook on his lap. Empty, besides Sam's name.

Sam lets out another small laugh, because he knew this was going to happen. This is what therapy is for. It's not supposed to be easy. They aren't here to just zap you all better. No, they have to hear you confess all your feelings, and all your fears. Then they can tell you what to do, maybe...if you're lucky. But you first have to pull all the pain out, into the open, before you can try and mend it all better.

"Sorry, I know that's what I'm here for. But it's hard. I guess...uh, I've kind of tried to push everything aside because I think that's what Dean needs. But...it's too hard." Sam feels like his brain is turning to mush. That didn't answer the question the doctor just asked him. What was that?

"Why do you feel you have to push everything aside for your brother?" The doctor asks, clearly not caring that Sam didn't really answer his question.

"Because he's done it for me my whole life. And he's...I don't...this is hard. I mean, first therapy sessions are always hard right? Because you know nothing about me, and I don't know how to get to where I want to be, with this. There is so much, and I don't know how to get there." Sam feels frustrated, tired, and upset. Why did he think this was going to be the way to fix things? How can he explain everything to this man in front of him, without diving into their childhood. An hour really isn't going to cut it.

"Sometimes first sessions can be tough. It's true, I don't know anything about you. So, I can understand your frustration. But we still have lots of time today. And maybe we won't get to everything, but that's fine. However you feel comfortable, just go from there. Whatever you want to talk about." The doctor smiles, trying to show his patience and compassion.

"I guess the biggest reason I'm here is...uh, I don't know what to do anymore. Bobby, he's the guy we're staying with. And he's been great. Real supportive, and a great listener. But I feel bad, dumping everything on him. And there are also some things that I can't tell him, because that would destroy my brother, even more than he already...he's gone through a lot." Sam feels tears stinging his eyes, he's not sure he can do this.

"And you haven't? You just lost your father. I'm sure you're dealing with a lot of pain as well." The doctor says, not wanting to downplay anybody's pain. He doesn't know the back story at all.

"Yeah." A tear finally makes it down Sam's face, and he quickly wipes it away. "It's been a tough year for me, and my brother has been there for me, despite everything he was going through, that I was unaware of. And even before that, he always taken care of me. See, we uh...lost of mother a long time ago, and we kind of moved around a lot. And now, it's just us. And I don't...he's not talking to me. I don't know what to do."

Sam feels like he's loosing his control. How is he supposed to explain all this within an hour. Who knows how much time he has left. And Sam's not sure if he can come back, and do this again. It was so hard to step into the office.

"Sounds like you and your brother had a tough childhood. He's the older brother I'm guessing?" The doctor asks.

"Yeah, by four years. He was old enough to know our mom for a couple years, where I don't remember her at all." Sam takes a deep breath, because he does remember what she looks like now. But that would just be a difficult story to explain.

"And, uh...like I said, Dean pretty much, well...he pretty much took care of me growing up. But then I left for school. And I thought that, I mean...I left him." Sam feels like everything if flooding back. Why did he have to do this, he should have just stuck to the basics.

"You're brother didn't go off to school?" The doctor asks, finally beginning to write some notes.

"No, he stayed and helped my father with the uh...with the job. My dad was a mechanic. And, I donno, I guess my father just never was the same after loosing his wife, you know. Dean just kind of took care of the family, I guess he didn't want to leave. I donno. We haven't really talked about it that much. It sucked, when I left. My father didn't take it too well, but that's...uh, that's not really why I came today." Sam doesn't want to get side-tracked. He needs to know what to do about Dean. This isn't about him.

"Okay, but we can come back to this if you'd like. Or we can save it for another day." The doctor says. Waiting.

"Okay." Sam doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know how to do this. He can't just blurt everything out, can he?

"So, why don't we discuss why you came here today? We still have quite a bit of time. But like I said, we don't have to tackle everything today. Take your time. If we don't get to everything, then you can always make another appointment." The doctor reassures Sam.

"I know, and...I just, I don't know if I'll be back. My brother, he's getting a little antsy. He never liked staying in one place for that long, and with everything that's going on...he going to want to do just about anything, but let me in." Sam just wants to get to the point. Sure he has feelings, and he's in pain because of the obvious, but that's not why he came.

"Okay, I mean...I don't really want to ignore everything that you're clearly dealing with. But why don't we get to why you came here today?" The doctor says, starting to write some more.

"Um...well, he...I don't know how to say this. It's all too much, and he's not talking to me. And I know he needs to talk about it, or it's going to kill him. Because, I mean, I haven't gone through half of what he's gone through and I can barely hold it together on the best of days." Sam hates that the tears won't let up. They aren't running down his face, just yet, but still. He knows the walls are going to break any minute.

"Sam, I can tell your in a lot of pain. And if you'd rather use this time to talk about your brother, I'm not going to object to that. Because it sounds like you have people to talk to, at least, Bobby...correct?" When Sam nods, the doctor continues. "So, why don't you tell me what happened to your brother, and maybe I can help you out a bit."

"Okay, um...he's not really taking all this too well. He won't talk to me, and I mean...I can't blame him. I left. There's a lot that I don't have the right to anymore. I can't expect our relationship to just bounce back to what it was...damn it." Sam curses, as some tears run down his face. He didn't want this to be about his emotions, he really didn't. He wanted to know what to do about his brother.

"You think because you left for school, that he doesn't trust you anymore?" The doctor asks.

"Kind of...I mean, we weren't really an opening and sharing family...like ever. But, before..." Sam stops, because that's not really the truth either.

"Before?" The doctor asks, after it seems like Sam wasn't going to continue on his own.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." Sam realizes that school shouldn't really factor into it that much anymore. Sure, he knows what he did probably still hurts his brother. As the demon pointed out, a big fear for Dean is that everyone's going to leave him.

"What? What made you stop like that?" The doctor asks, putting his pen down and looking intently at Sam.

"Just...well, I mean, I'm not saying that me going off to school doesn't factor in. Because it does, but I guess...I should back track a bit. See, about a year ago, my father went missing. But not really, he was just dealing with some stuff and left my brother. So Dean wanted me to help him find him, but I didn't really want to leave this nice new life I had for myself. But that changed, and we spent about a year on the road together, it was actually nice for awhile. Kind of." Sam scrubs a hand over his face, trying to get ride of the wetness and any other tears that were attempting to fall.

"What changed? Why did you finally decide to leave with your brother?" The doctor asks.

_Shit._ Sam knows the doc is just doing his job. But why did everything get so twisted. He just wanted advice on how to help his brother.

"Um...my girlfriend, Jessica." Sam's voice cracks at the mention of her name. He thought he was over this, it's been over a year. But the pain still feels so fresh. "She died, there was a fire. And I just...I couldn't stay there anymore. It was too hard."

"I'm sorry Sam, it must be difficult to deal with the lose of two very important people in your life." The doctor replies, making a few more notes in his book.

"Yeah, it is." More tears make their way down Sam's face, but he refuses to completely break. Not until he gets some answers. "And Dean was real supportive after I lost Jess. I mean, sure he's not really the...he doesn't do "chick-flick moments", as he calls them. He doesn't sit around and share what's hurting. But I found some things out before everything that's happened recently, and some thing after. But now, he's just completely shut down. Before our father died, he was slowly starting to talk to me. But now...nothing."

"I get the impression, now I've never met your brother, so I'm only going off what you've said so far. But I get the impression that he's put everyone else's lives before his own. Must of been a great responsibility. And maybe he just doesn't know how to open up, share the way you're sharing with me right now. Maybe he needs more time than others." The doctor says, not sure if that's of any comfort.

"I know, and that's what Bobby said at first. But...okay, I'm just going to lay it all out simply, and maybe you can give me some advise." Sam says, as he wipes more tears from his face. He tries to focus, he can't break. He needs to just say what he came here to say, and that's it. This isn't about him.

"I'll do what I can." The doctor says, almost with a sigh. He clearly wants Sam to focus on his own issues, but Sam ignores the look on the doctors face. He came here because of his brother, not for his own benefit.

"My brother, he would probably hate me for this, but I need to know how to help him. Okay...so, since hitting the road with my brother I've learned a lot of secrets that I almost wish I never found out. I found out that he was molested when he was eight, when I was too young to see any danger around us. I also found out that...I donno, sometime while I was off having my own life at Stanford, my brother was raped by three men. He's not me details about the time when he was eight, but nothing about the rape. He's clearly not dealing with everything very well, he gets panic attacks. He had one at the hospital, that's probably why the doctor contacted you. And to top all that off, I just found out that he's hurting himself...uh, cutting himself. And I just don't know what to do. What can I do?" Sam asks, desperate. Trying so hard not to cry. He just needs to know how to help his brother. Needs answers.

Doctor Kane just watching Sam for a moment. Watches the range of emotions play across the young mans face. He takes a deep breath. He knows this is tough. Knows he needs to be careful.

"Sounds like your brother has been through some tough times. And I'm glad he has such a big support from your end, whether or not he realizes it yet. And we can sit here for the next twenty some minutes and discuss what you can do to help your brother. But I don't think you'll help your brother much, not until you face everything your brother is going through, and everything you've lost this year, and now it is also effected you. I know you want to just push it all aside. But I get the impression that that's not going to work. I get the feeling that that's what you're brother has been doing his whole life for you, and that hasn't worked. You can't just expect to deal with his issues, and it all be better. You both need to work on your own issues, and both help each other." The doctor says softly, and calmly.

Tears start building in Sam's eyes again, and he shakes he head. He didn't want this. He doesn't disagree with anything the what the doctor just said, that's not the point. The point is that Sam believes that Dean has suffered more. That Dean has gone through so much, and gave up so much, that this is what Sam needs to do now.

"I can't...please, just...I need to know how to help him. I can't lose him. He's all I have left." Sam doesn't want to cry, he doesn't want to break down.

"And you're all your brother has left. Okay. You're both going through a lot. I'm not trying to downplay what you're brother went through, but he's not here. I'm sitting here with you. So, why don't we just take a step back and take a breath. I'd like to know a little more about when you learned some of these things about your brother." The doctor has started writing some more as he continued to speak, but finally put the pen down as he finished.

Tears slowly start to roll down, and Sam starts to feel like he can't hold on anymore. He feels like he can't breath.

"I feel like I'm losing everything, and I don't know how to handle anything anymore. I can't be here, I'm sorry. I can't." Sam quickly gets up, as he tries to wipe the tears from his face. He quickly moves towards the door.

"Sam, wait!" The doctor calls out, as he too get up out of his chair. "Give me one minute Sam. I'll let you leave then, okay?"

Sam took a deep breath, hating how the tears continued down his face. He slowly turned to face the doctor as the doctor walked around his desk.

"I know therapy can feel very overwhelming, especially the first session. But I don't want you to feel discouraged. All this takes time. You still have my number, so please, just think about what I said. And I'd love to see you again while you're still in town. I really want to help." The doctor keeps eye contact with Sam, wanting to show his sympathy and compassion.

Sam just nods, not trusting himself to speak anymore. He's using every strength his has to keep himself from breaking.

"As for everything else, I'll give you some names of some key websites and books you can look at. I'm not discouraging you from talking to me about your brother. I do want to help. But I can't ignore your issues as well. So that's what you have to think about." The doctor continues as he write down four websites, and two book authors.

Sam slowly walks over to the doctors desk and takes the paper once the doctor is finished with it. "Thanks."

"I hope to see you again Sam." The doctor smiles, hoping he hasn't scared the poor young man away.

"Thanks for this." Sam chokes out, as he looks over the paper. Finally realizes he doesn't have a computer. _Huh._

Sam then turns and leaves before he can mess this up anymore. He barely makes it to the car before he breaks.

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Dean and Bobby pretty much ignored each other for the rest of the day while Sam is out. Bobby was still pissed, and Dean just wanted to go back to his car. His car that now needed more work, all thanks to his anger getting the better of him.

Dean was a little nervous for his brother to get back. It really surprised him when Bobby told him where his little brother had gone to. He really thought his brother was dealing with everything on his own, despite all the nasty comments he said to contradict himself. But he also knew Sam was talking to Bobby. So why would he do this?

So Dean just focuses on the car. That's all he has the strength to do. He can't think about how fucked up his life has gotten. He needs his car back on the road. He needs Sam in the passenger seat, as they get back to the hunt. Away from all this emotional bullshit that is trying to suffocate all of them.

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It's almost dark out when Sam finally gets back to Bobby's. He wants to just go up to his room, and collapse. The day drained so much out of him. But he knows Bobby will want to talk to him. And Sam's not surprised to find Bobby at the kitchen table, reading a book, with a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hey Bobby." Sam says softly as he sits down across from the older man.

Bobby looks up, and looks over Sam. He nearly cringers at the image in front of him. Sam looks terrible. "You look terrible boy. How did it go? Or...uh, do you want to talk about it?"

Sam almost wants to laugh. He suddenly feels relaxed. Sam smiles at Bobby, feeling so much better already.

"It didn't really go so well. I um...I think I went there for the wrong reasons and the doctor could see that. He wanted me to open myself up emotional, like I've been doing around you lately, and I'm sorry for that again, I...." Sam is started to babble, so Bobby cuts him off.

"Sam, stop. How many times do I have to tell you that you're not bothering me." Bobby says sternly.

"I know. Sorry." Sam shakes his head as he realizes what he just said, and smiles as Bobby glares at him. "So...I'm guessing Dean's been working on his car all day?"

"Yeah, felt like kickin' his ass all day, but I left the idjit alone." Bobby replies, a little ticked off.

"Thanks Bobby. But, um...it was weird, the whole therapy thing. It wasn't really what I expected. But he was nice. And he did end up giving me some websites I could check out and some books. And then that reminded me that I don't have a laptop anymore. So I think I'm going to head into town again tomorrow and pick one up." Sam rambles on. Feeling like a dick, he is completely ignoring himself. And maybe this is exactly how his brother always feels. If that's the case, Sam feels that much worst for his brother. Because this sucks.

"Okay, you're more than welcome to take the car. I don't really have much going on lately." Bobby says as he finishes his coffee.

"Yeah, what's up with that Bobby? You haven't been on a hunt since I called from the hospital. You're not...um..." Sam suddenly feels just that much worst when he realizes that Bobby's put the hunt on hold to take care of them these last few weeks.

"Hey, I've wanted a bit of a break for awhile now. Don't go feeling responsible. I've enjoyed the last few weeks with you boys, well...your brother is a bit of a different story. But I'm enjoying having you boys around, even if the circumstances are shit." Bobby gets up and walks over to the counter to drop his coffee mug into the kitchen sink. He then returns to the table.

"And I appreciate it Bobby. So...uh, I guess...well, I'm exhausted, clearly. So I think I'm going to take a shower, maybe that will help a bit. Then I think I'm going to crash." Sam says as he slowly stands up. Not wanting the conversation to get awkward. The day has already been too emotionally draining for him.

"Okay. I'll be up for a while if you need anything, or...you know, need to talk." Bobby stays seated, not wanting to push the younger man in front of him. He can only imagine how emotionally draining the day has been for him.

"Thanks." Sam smiles, and leaves the kitchen. Hoping that a nice shower and a good night's sleep will help his clogged mind. And maybe tomorrow will be a little better.

Bobby waits until he hears the shower running, and then he gets up. Bobby walks out of the house to find Dean. And he's 100% positive he knows exactly where he is.

When Bobby finds Dean, he isn't working on the car. He's just starring at the trunk. Looking at the damage.

"You sure did a lot of damage to that trunk, boy." Bobby calls out, as he approaches Dean.

Dean jumps at the sound of Bobby's voice, obviously not expecting anyone to bother him out here. He quickly turns to face Bobby.

"Fuck." Dean curses. Man, what a fine hunter he is. Bobby really shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him like that. But lately, Dean's mind hasn't exactly been 100% focused.

"How's the car coming?" Bobby asks, trying to remain civil. The boys have been through a lot. He doesn't want to yell at Dean if he doesn't have to.

"Slow, but I figure it shouldn't take me much more than a week to get her up and running again. Would have been a little sooner, had I...well, um...I'm taking it that Sammy's back?" Dean asks, not wanting to discuss the mess he made of the trunk earlier today.

"Yep, got in about ten minutes ago. That kid is wiped. He's takin' a shower, and then he's hitting the sack. Which, I suggest you should do the same. You look dead tired. But you need to go in there and talk to your brother first." Bobby says, still trying to remain calm.

"Bobby." Dean warns. He doesn't want to get in a fight either. But he also doesn't want Bobby pushing him.

"He's so worried about losing you, but have you ever thought that that means you're going to lose him? Huh? And I hate to say it boy, but I know for a fact that you can't handle that. So why don't you take your head out of your ass for five minutes, and at least see how your brother's doing? Or have you already forgotten all the shit you put him through, today alone. And where he's been for most of the day?" Bobby asks, not really expecting an answer as he turns and walks back towards the house.

Dean really shouldn't be surprised, not since the speech he got this morning from Bobby. And he does feel like shit about everything he's put his brother through. But he can't...it's too much. He can't be what they want him to be, not yet anyways. Maybe never.

_Shit, shit! Damn it!_ Dean takes a deep breath before walking towards the house. Maybe if he's lucky Sam's already a sleep.

So Dean slowly makes his way through the house, passing by Bobby, who's back in the kitchen. Neither of the two say anything to each other as Dean passes.

Dean finally gets to Sam's room. The door is closed, but there is light seeping through the bottom. Meaning Sam's still awake. Meaning Dean needs to say something to him to make up for the disaster that was today.

Taking a deep breath, Dean knocks on the door. For a moment, there is nothing, pure silence. And Dean thinks maybe Sam doesn't want to talk. But soon Dean hears Sam's voice, quiet, call him. "Come in."

Dean slowly enters Sam's room. Sam's dressed, and clearly ready for bed. But he's just sitting on the edge of his bed, clearly deep in thought.

"Hey, Bobby told me you were back so I thought I'd say hi before you hit the sack." Dean says, trying to keep everything calm and light. He has no idea what kind of mood his brother is in.

Sam finally looks up at Dean, not sure what to say. He knows that Bobby probably told Dean where he was all day, which would make sense as to why his brother is so stiff and awkward. Sam knows his brother won't want to talk about it, so Sam really doesn't know what to say at all.

"How's the hand?" Sam asks, feeling completely lame.

"It's okay. Look, I'm sorry about this morning okay. I'm was a complete ass, and Bobby...well, he uh, he um...look I..." Dean feels like an idiot. Why can't he just form a complete sentence and get the fuck out. Why linger?

Sam just looks at Dean funny, kind of amused by the change in his brother. He knows he should help him out, let his brother leave without making a big deal about the events that took place during the day. But Sam's too tired. Besides, maybe he'll be able to get something out of his brother, finally.

"Damn it." Dean curses under his breath. He can tell Sam's really not going to help him out at all. He should just back out now. But he feels he owes Sam something, anything. He's not sure what though.

"Look, Bobby told me where you were today. Um...I don't...shit. How did it go?" Dean finally gets out his thought, bit of a struggle, but the question is finally out there.

Sam laughs a little. He never thought he'd see his brother so flustered, at least not lately. Not when Dean's priorities lately have been either his car, or avoiding conversations like this like the plague.

"It was weird. A lot more awkward than I thought. I guess now I understand you a little more. Why you think it's easier to just ignore the world." Sam sighs, he really doesn't want to guilt trip Dean. That's not what he's trying to do. But as the words leave his mouth, that's all he feels.

"Right, well, I'm..." Dean really doesn't now how to respond to that. There is way too much tension in the room, so he settles on changing the subject. "Well, it looks like it shouldn't be more than another week, and the Impala should be up and running. Then maybe we'll be able to stop living off Bobby's limited generosity."

"Limited?" Sam asks, suddenly a little more amused.

"Yeah, guy is ready to take my fuckin' head off. It's kind of scary." Dean shrugs, a little less uncomfortable now.

"Yeah, well...I'm doing the best I can with that. Sorry." Sam feels suddenly bad again, knowing that Bobby's only holding back because he asked him to.

"No, thanks actually. I don't think I'd be able to finish the car if you let the leash off." Dean replies with a smile. And both of them are surprised by the genuine smile that's displayed on Dean's face. But Dean quickly shakes it off, and stares at the ground. "Um...I'm sure you're tired so..."

Dean goes to leave, but stops when Sam speaks up. "Dean, wait."

Dean turns to face his brother, and is suddenly back to being completely terrified.

"I'm um...I'm going head into town tomorrow. Completely forget these last few weeks that I don't have a laptop." Sam says softly. Slightly cringing at the memories that flood his mind at bring up his damaged laptop.

"Yeah, I'm surprised Sammy. Didn't think you could hold out this long." Dean says, ignoring the pained look on his brother's face. He knows what's it's about, the crash. And if he brings up the crash, then...it will all be downhill from there. But luckily, Sam continues to speak.

"So, I mean...if you wanted to tag along, I wouldn't mind the company. You gotta get out every once in a while, right?" Sam asks, hoping that maybe they can have a normal day together. Where they both just ignore everything, no matter how unhealthy that may be, and just hang out. Like the old days.

"Naw, I just want to get the car down, you know. Hate seeing her like this, she needs to be out on the road." Dean smiles, but this one's a little forced.

Sam wants to laugh, but instead tears prick at his eyes. And Dean sees this, and instantly is reminded of all the shit he's caused. He hates being in the situation. He wishes he could be the big brother right now. But Dean knows the cost of that is too much for him right now.

"Besides you're a big boy, you can shop on your own. You don't need me around, right?" Dean says, and instantly regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. _Where did that come from? Shit._

Sam just stares at Dean for a moment, and feels like crying. Why didn't he think about this? They've been at Bobby's for how long now, and Sam hasn't once asked if Dean remember what happened that night? Sam suddenly feels like an even bigger jackass. He also suddenly wants there father to be alive again. Because he didn't want to have this conversation with Dean, it was supposed to be their father. Sam doesn't know what the truths are. He never got to really talk to their father about it. And suddenly Sam hates himself, and their father.

"Dean..." Sam doesn't know how to ask this, but by the look on his brother's face, Dean knows exactly where Sam's going with this.

"Don't." Dean pleads. He feels really pathetic right now. He didn't want his brother to know he remembered that night. Sure some of it's still a little fuzzy after the blinding pain in his chest. But he sure remembers everything leading up to that.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say Dean." Sam replies, knowing that there is a good chance that Dean knows exactly what he was about to ask.

"I have a couple ideas, and none of them good." Dean sighs as he leans against the door frame. "Okay, I'm tired, and I don't want to argue. So...go ahead."

Sam arches an eyebrow, not sure he just heard his brother right. Did he just say go ahead? Because he's tired? Normally that excuse is used to get the opposite result.

"What? Did you just say go ahead...because you're tired?" Sam asks, needed clarify first.

"Ya, I know...so come on." Dean replies quickly, before he can chicken out.

"Okay...um, so...wow." Sam falters, completely caught off guard. "You remember that night? Don't you? The cabin with the demon?"

"Ya, um...most of it. Gets a little fuzzy after the blood lose. But everything before that, it came back to me." Dean replies, hating how low and weak his voice comes out as.

"When?" Sam asks, not really surprised that Dean didn't offer up this information on his own.

"First night out of the hospital." Dean replies, lowing his head. Not wanting to see the look on his brother's face as he learns of more lies and deceit.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asks, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. But he knows his brother knows.

"I'm sorry." Dean replies, tears building in his eyes. He doesn't want to have this conversation, he can't. It's not the more painful, not the worst of all conversations that his brother could bring up. But that doesn't change the fact that it still hurts like hell.

"Dean...how did this all get so hard? Fuck. I just...you couldn't even tell me this? You just thought I'd make into a painful conversation. You just, you don't talk to me at all. How do you think...I can't keep doing this Dean." Sam says, keeping his sights on his brother despite the tears building in his own eyes.

"I just...I'm sorry, um...I think I'm going to have a shower. Try to get some sleep tonight for once." Dean looks up at his brother, even though he knows he's going to hate the sight in front of him.

Tears start to fall down Sam's face, and Dean wants to run away. The tears are still in his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall.

"See...you can't even. You know I know that you don't sleep. I know everything, yet you don't talk to me. Well, that might not even be true. I might not now everything. And I can't talk to you, because I know it would just make you uncomfortable. So I'm unloading everything onto Bobby and I fucking hate it Dean." Sam tries to wipe the tears from his face, but they don't stop. And Sam hates that it's happening now. He doesn't understand how he can keep breaking around people, but his brother remains closed off to the world.

"You should get some rest Sam. I'll see you in the morning." Dean goes to leave but Sam calls him back. Dean really doesn't want to but he feels he owes his brother so much right now.

"Dean?" Sam calls out.

"Yeah?" Dean turns, but doesn't enter the room. Needed to make sure he has an escape.

"Can I ask one more question?" Sam asks.

"I might not give you an answer." Dean answers truthfully. He hopes that the question would be light, but he can't be certain, so why promise something he can't give to his brother.

"Why...okay, no, you won't tell me why. That's too big right now I'm sure. So, how long...when did you start to um...you know? The uh, cutting? When did that start? Did anyone else know?" Sam asks, awkwardly.

"That's more than one question Sammy." Dean replies with a sad smile. Knowing he can't tell his brother the truth. Sure it may not have directed started after he almost got Sam kill back in Wisconsin when they were both kids. But that sure would be the turning point. No, how do you tell your brother it started years and years ago. Long before he remember that anything bad besides the hunt ever happened to him. Years before Sam left for Stanford. And definitely years before New Orleans.

"Come on Dean, I'm not asking us to have that painful conversation...not yet anyways. I just want to know how long? I know I can' t ask why? Or what happened to make it start. I know I can't even ask you to talk to me from now on instead of doing that to yourself. So I'm not going to go there. I just want to know for how long?" Sam asks. He wants to believe it's just a recent thing. Something that maybe his brother started after he left for Stanford. Or something he started after he was raped. But he has this pain in the pit of his stomach. He needs his brother to answer, he needs to know.

A tear slowly makes its way down Dean's face, and he quickly wipes it away. He can see all the pain in his brother's eyes, as the tears continue to run down his brother's face. It's killing him. But he can't add to that pain, he just can't.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Good-night, okay? And um...if I don't see you before you head into down, have fun." Dean smiles, as his tears continue to build in his eyes. Dean then just turns and walks away.

Sam just sits on his bed, stunned as more tears run down his face. He can't believe his brother was scared to answer that one. That can only mean the worst, right? It can only mean that his brother really doesn't want him to know that answer, because it would definitely spark a conversation.

Sam feels completely numb, but his mind is screaming at him to go after his brother. Instead, he slowly gets into bed. Wrapping the covers tightly around him as he continues to cry.

Dean is shaking as he closes the door to his room, hating the pain he saw on his brother's face. His own tears now running unchecked down his face. Despite the conversation, the need to pick up something sharp only intensifies. Dean feels sick. He can't, not now. He can't do this.

So instead, Dean opens the new pill bottle of anxiety medication, and downs two pills without water. He realizes he's getting a little attached to the drug, which is probably not it's purpose. But what's worst? Getting hooked on drugs that are supposed to help ease the panic that is brought up by his fucked up life, or slashing his arms to pieces?

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The next couple days were brutal for everyone at Bobby's house. Bobby had to keep his temper in check, and his mouth shut. Dean closed off, like everyone expected, and just worked on his car. And Sam spent more of his time in town.

For the first day, Sam just went into town to look at new laptops. But eventually Sam went back and had two more sessions with Doctor Kane. They were painful, but Sam forced himself to talk about everything. Not just what his brother went through, and won't talk about. Of course, it was hard explaining certain thing while leaving the supernatural world out of it, but Sam managed.

Doctor Kane actually was helpful, most of the time. And Sam started to do his own research about certain things, most of which had to do with Dean.

Six days after Dean destroyed the trunk of the Impala, Dean had the car completely up and running again. Sam felt weird leaving Bobby's already. He almost wouldn't have minded if they stayed at Bobby's for a long time. It started to feel comfortable for Sam. But he knew the static between Bobby and Dean would only explode sooner or later if they did stay any longer. Besides, Sam found them a hunt.

So now, Dean and Sam are back on the road. Dean behind the wheel, with a huge smile on his face. He hasn't felt this good since their father was taken by the demons, and the mess that followed. Dean knew this didn't change a thing. He also knew that Sam wasn't only spending all his time on his new laptop searching for a new hunt. He knew that if he snooped, he'd find research that he didn't like. So that's why he kept his hands off the computer.

"Woo! Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?" Dean beams, loving behind behind the wheel again. It's been too long.

"You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean." Sam replies. Sam should love the change, because he knows this is real. He knows Dean isn't faking this, and even thought Sam knows it's not going to last, he still can't get it to help his current mood. This isn't healing, this isn't change. This is just the Impala fixed, and the prospect of a hunt. Everything is still painfully the same.

"Oh, don't listen to him, baby. He doesn't understand us." Dean says as he pets the dashboard.

Sam just shakes his head. "You're in a good mood."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Dean asks, feeling like any moment his little brother is going to pull the rug out from under him.

"No reason." Sam states, not wanted this moment to change. Even if it's only for right now...Sam is okay with the moment of totally denial.

"I got my car, got a case...things are lookin' up." Dean replies, even if it's not the complete truth. Even during hunts his brother pushes at subjects he shouldn't. Even during hunts his mind tries to force him to remember things he never wants to think about ever again.

"Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you're Mr. Sunshine." Sam is a little surprised, but Dean just chuckles. Which just continues on the day of weird from Sam's point of view.

"How far to Red Lodge?" Dean asks, not sure what else to say. He knows this must be weird for his brother. But he just prays that Sam shuts up and let's him have this, just once.

"Uh, about another three hundred miles." Sam replies.

"Good." Dean smiles, as he steps on the gas, loving the feeling he gets as the car speeds down the road.

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So the hunt didn't start off like either of the boys expected. And it definitely took an odd, and a bit of a scary turn.

They met Gordon Walker, who pretty much told them to get lost. It kind of pissed Dean off, because he needed something to hunt. But, Dean was never the one to back down. And luckily, Dean's night ended with him killing a vamp.

Sam, on the other hand, wished they never met Gordon, and wished they never took the case. It started off fine, even after the odd meeting of Gordon. But then Dean wouldn't light up, which shouldn't have surprised Sam. He knew that this hunt was important to Dean, hell, it was important to him too. But when he watched his brother decapitate the vampire, and that's when Sam started to freak out a little. The cold, dead emotion, on his brother's face when he killed it, sent shivers down his spine.

"So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink." Gordon finally says, stunned as well, but more so because a few moments ago he thought he was a dead man. He figured it was a good thing the boys didn't listen to him.

So the three of them soon found themselves at a bar. Dean hasn't been to many bars lately, they don't really hold the same appeal to him as they did before New Orleans. But he's with people, and they are just here for a friendly drink. Nothing is going to happen.

Sam on the other hand, wouldn't mind leaving. And he can't help the growing concern he has over his brother. He knew things were bad, really really bad. But he did think this hunt was going to be different then the last. He thought maybe they wouldn't fight, and argue. And he thought maybe this was going to be good for both of them. But what he saw, in his brother's eyes, scared the hell out of Sam. But with Gordon still in the picture, Sam couldn't push. Hell, Sam's not sure he'd want to push even if Gordon weren't in the picture.

A waitress serves them more drink, which snaps Sam out of his thoughts. He watches as Dean reaches for his wallet, but Gordon stops him.

"No, no. I got it." Gordon insists.

"Come on." Dean replies, wanting to pay for this round.

"I insist." Gordon places the money on the waitress' tray, not letting Dean pay. "Thank you, sweetie."

The waitress leaves the table, as Gordon and Dean raise their shot glasses.

"Another one bites the dust." Gordon toasts.

"That's right." Dean says as they both drink they shot.

Sam doesn't touch his drink, and slightly frowns at the scene playing out in front of him. He's confused at how laid back his brother is. It's like nothing's happened.

"Dean." Gordon laughs. "You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend."

"Thank you." Dean chuckles.

"That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Gordon says, still smiling.

"Yep." Dean smiles, but then notices his brother and the upset look on his face. "You all right, Sammy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam answers, but not feeling it. He suddenly feels very irritated.

"Well, lighten up a little, Sammy." Gordon says, still in a very good mood.

"He's the only one that gets to call me that." Sam says, nodding towards his brother. He feels his dislike for Gordon growing by the second.

"Okay. No offense meant. Just celebratin' a little, job well done." Gordon insists, not wanting to upset the younger man.

"Right. Well, um...decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess." Sam replies, flatly.

"Oh, come on, man. It's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job." Gordon says, keeping it light, despite the topic.

Dean snaps his fingers, trying to keep the same mentality of Gordon. Despite the fact that he knows exactly what's bugging his little brother. "See, that's what I've been trying to tell him.

Dean looks over to Sam as he continues. "You could learn a thing or two from this guy."

Sam now is extremely annoyed now. What the hell happened? Dean's been closed off, and completely distant. And now...what?

"Yeah, I bet I could. Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel." Sam replies, not wanting to start something with his brother that's only going to hurt them both.

"You sure?" Dean asks as he rubs his eyes. He feels like shit, but he can't do anything differently right now. Not in front of Gordon. He needs this. Someone new to hang out with, no expectations. No knowledge of anything bad that would lead to an equally awkward conversation.

"Yeah." Sam gets up and goes to walk away from the table as Dean call him back.

"Sammy." Dean calls out. He tosses his car keys to Sam. "Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, all right?"

Sam catches the keys, and leaves. Dean knows it was the wrong thing to say, but he'll just have to deal with the consequences later. Right now, this is exactly what he needs to take his mind off everything.

"Something I said?" Gordon asks once Sammy's left the bar.

"No, no. he just gets that way sometimes. I'll tell you what." Dean says as he holds up his shot glass in an attempt to avoid the sudden urge to spill his guts, emotionally. "Match quarters for the next round."

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Sam enters their motel room, and places the keys on a cactus-shaped key rack. He's upset and pissed off. He doesn't know what to do with himself. If he only knew what was in store.

Meanwhile, Dean and Gordon are still at the bar, talking.

"So, I picked up this crossbow and I hit that ugly sucker with a silver-tipped arrow, right in his heart." Dean tells, and Gordon grins. "Sammy's waiting in the car, and then me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there, and I'm lookin' into the fire, and I'm thinkin' to myself... "I'm sixteen years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates...and I'm seeing things that they'll never even know, never even dream of." So right then, I just sort of..."

"Embraced the life?" Gordon says at Dean's hesitation.

"Yeah." Dean agrees.

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Dean repeats after he thinks about it a moment, and Gordon chuckles. "How'd you get started?"

Dean knows it's sometimes a bad question to ask a hunter. Most people get into this line of work for a very bad reason, I mean look at his father. But Gordon seems pretty laid back, so Dean takes the chance.

"First time I saw a vampire, I was barely eighteen. Home alone with my sister. I hear the window break in her room. I grabbed my dad's gun, run in, try to get it off her. It was too late. So I shoot the damn thing, which, of course is about as useful as snappin' it with a rubber band." Dean smirks, and Gordon continues. "It rushes me, picks me up, flings me across the room, knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire's gone...my sister's gone."

"And then?" Dean asks, knowing that's not the full story.

"And then...try explaining that one to your family. So I left home. And then bummed around looking for information...how you track 'em, how you kill 'em. And I found that fang. It was my first kill." Gordon replies, rather calmly.

Dean is a little surprised. Most hunters he's talked to, they don't approach their story like Gordon. No matter how long it's been, there's always pain behind their eyes, and their voice as they tell you the reason they are now hunting. But not Gordon. It almost sends a shiver down Dean's spin.

"Sorry about your sister." Dean offers, ignoring the weird feeling in his gut.

"Yeah. She was beautiful. I can still see her, you know, the way she was." Gordon pauses to take a drink. "But hey, that was a long time ago. I mean, your dad...it's gotta be rough."

Dean instantly gets uncomfortable. Why did everything have to change? Why couldn't they just enjoy the night? He was fine, fine before that. Now...now Dean actually feels like talking, a little. And he hates that it's not Sam in front of him right now. Hates that he needs to keep his walls up around his brother. But there's too much there. At least here, with Gordon, it's only about the lose. That's how it is with all hunters, shared lose. Well, except for Bobby now. Which Dean still hates.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know, he was just one of those guys. Took some terrible beatings...just kept comin'. So you're always saying to yourself, "He's indestructible. He'll always be around. Nothing can kill my dad." And just like that..." He snaps his fingers. "...he's gone."

Dean takes a deep breath, everything getting harder to push into the background. But he feels slightly comfortable around Gordon for some reason. There isn't any pushing, and not expectations. Mind you, Dean has no intentions on discussing anything besides his father. But it's kind of nice to get some of that pain out, in a way that isn't psychically harmful to himself.

"I can't talk about this to Sammy." Dean finally says, forcing a laugh. "No, I gotta keep my game face on. But, uh...truth is, I'm not handling it very well. I feel like I have this..."

Dean doesn't know how to describe. And in truth, no matter what Gordon says next, it won't be completely accurate. Because everything he's feeling isn't solely about his father.

"Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker?" Gordon says, filling the silence.

Dean nods, even thought that only really covers the pain of lose. Not all the other emotions, and horrible memories attached to them.

"Good. You can use it...keeps you hungry. Trust me, there's plenty out there needs killing, and this will help you do it. Dean, it's not a crime your job." Gordon says.

Dean just stares at Gordon, not sure how to respond. It's true, he agrees with him. Because lately he has been craving the hunt. But at the same time, no matter what he does, the pain in his chest only grows. And Dean's not sure even the hunt can help him. Even Dean's beginning to worry that maybe soon...well, Dean's not sure what could happen, but chances are, it won't be good.

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Back at their motel room, Sam is pacing the room with his cellphone to his ear. He's waiting for someone to pick up.

"Havell's Roadhouse." Ellen voice finally comes through Sam's phone.

"Hey, Ellen. Uh, Sam Winchester." Sam replies, hoping Ellen won't mind him calling. It hasn't been too long since he's seen her, but who knows.

"Sam! It's good to hear from you. You boys are okay, aren't you?" Ellen asks, concern and compassion in her voice.

"Yeah, everything fine. Got a question." Sam replies, feeling much better already.

"Yeah, shoot." Ellen says.

"You every run across a guy named Gordon Walker?" Sam asks, hoping Ellen will have only positive things to say about the man. But Sam can't shake this feeling. Not to mention the guy just pisses him off.

"Yeah, I know Gordon."

"And?"

"Well, he's a real good hunter. Why you askin', sweetie?"

"Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kind of working with him, I guess."

"Don't do that, Sam." Ellen snaps, her tone of voice instantly changing.

"I...I thought you said he was a good hunter." Sam replies, feeling a little confused.

"Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job, you boys just let him handle it and you move on." Ellen says sternly.

"Ellen..."

"No, Sam. You just listen to what I'm telling you, okay?"

Sam doesn't really know what to say, and he hates that he left his brother back at the bar. "Right, okay."

Sam just thanks Ellen, and hangs up the phone. He really hopes everything's okay with Dean at the bar. But Sam gets the feeling that Gordon is exactly the kind of person that Dean thinks he needs to be around right now, even if he's completely off the mark.

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A couple hours pass, and Dean finds himself with Gordon, sitting at a table in his motel room. They are looking over a map. They both have no idea what Sam's been through during their time at the bar, and their time at the motel.

Sam is really not pleased. Not only was he kidnapped, but he was let go, which just confuses the hell out of him. Is it possible that these vampires aren't a threat? If so...this is not going to go over well with Dean and Gordon. Sam tries to think of a plan as he approaches the motel.

Inside, Gordon and Dean continue their talk.

"Well, this is the best patter I can establish. It's sketchy, at best." Gordon informs Dean as they continue to look at the map.

"Looks like it's all coming from this side of town, which means the nest would be around here someplace, right?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. Problem is, there's thirty-five, forty farms out there. I've search about half of 'em already, but nothing yet. They're covering their tracks real good."

"I guess we'll just have to search the other half." Dean responds, and Gordon grins.

Dean looks at his watch, and is surprised. It's really, really late. Where the hell is Sam?

"What time is it? Where is Sam?" Dean doesn't want to panic, but he can't believe this wasn't his first thought when they entered the empty motel room.

"Car's parked outside. Probably went for a walk...seems like the take-a-walk type." Gordon replies, not overly concerned.

"Yeah, he is, but..." Dean trails off as Sam enters the room. "Where you been?"

"Can I talk to you alone?" Sam asks his brother, not wasting any time with small talk.

"You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?" Dean asks Gordon.

When Gordon just shakes his head, Dean gets up from the table. Dean follows Sam out of the room.

They walk away from the motel, into the pretty empty parking lot. Dean can tell Sam's on edge, and he really hopes this is about the hunt. He can't stand his brother bringing up personal shit right now.

"Dean, maybe we've gotta rethink this hunt." Sam finally says.

"What are you talkin' about? Where were you?" Dean asks, not really sure what his brother is talking about. Rethinking the hunt wasn't exactly what Dean thought his brother wanted to talk about.

Sam doesn't really know how to explain this to his brother without this turning into an argument, where then one of them says something they'll regret later. Sam knows how much this hunt means to Dean. Sam hasn't seen his brother this relax in a very long time, even if it is just an act part of the time.

"In the nest." Sam finally answers.

"You found it?" Dean asks, surprised. He really didn't think his brother left the bar to actually work on the case.

"They found me, man." Sam replies.

"How'd you get out? How many did you kill?"

"None."

"Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go." Dean exclaims, getting a little frustrated.

"That's exactly what they did." Sam snaps back, also getting frustrated with his brother, and not only because of the hunt.

"All right, well, where is it?" Dean asks, trying to keep everything focused.

"I was blindfolded, I don't know."

"Well, you've gotta know somethin."

"We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen, maybe we shouldn't go after 'em." Sam tries again, not sure if he's going to be able to get through to his brother.

"Why not?" Dean asks, completely confused. Why would he brother be saying this to him.

"I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people." Sam explains.

"You're joking." Dean wants to roll his eyes, but his brother just looks at him pleadingly. "Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are?"

"The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood." Sam explains, hoping he can get through to his brother. But he feels like he's already losing the battle.

"And you believed 'em?" Dean exclaims, completely surprised at his brother.

"Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch." Sam says, showing his arms out, trying desperately to make his brother believe they didn't touch him at all. But he feels the conversation starting to spin out of his control.

"Wait, so you're sayin'...no, man. No way. I don't know why they let you go, I don't really care. We find 'em and we waste 'em." Dean begins to walk away from his brother, but Sam doesn't think the conversation is over apparently.

Neither of them realizes that they are being watched. Gordon watching them from the side of the motel.

"Why?" Sam calls out, making his brother turn back, continuing the conversation.

"What part of "vampires" don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that's our job." Dean exclaims, wonder how he could be having this conversation with his brother right now. He thought by now that his brother understood how all this worked.

"No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil." Sam bites back, knowing it's practically a lost cause. He feels his frustration and anger only growing.

"Of course they're killing people! That's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of 'em." Dean feels his own anger boiling over, and he hates fighting with his brother, especially lately.

"No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time." Sam doesn't know what else to say, how else he can try and convince his brother. Why won't he just believe him?

"Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man. He knows." Dean explains, knowing bringing up Gordon might not be his best idea at the moment. He gets the feeling his brother is too fond of the man.

"Gordon?" Sam asks, really hoping his brother hasn't bonded with the man as much as he thinks he has. It's only fueling his anger.

"Yes."

"You're taking his word for it?"

"That's right."

"Ellen says he's bad news."

"You called Ellen?" Dean asks, he really shouldn't be surprised. But at least the last hunt, they got from Ellen. This...this doesn't make any sense. But Sam nods, confirming that he did call.

"And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. No thanks, I'll go with Gordon." Dean continues.

"Right, 'cause Gordon's such an old friend. You don't think I can see what this is?" Sam asks, feeling himself getting into dangerous grounds.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, even though ever instinct is telling him to get back in that motel room. Get away from his brother, and leave with Gordon. Kill some vamps.

"He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one." Sam snaps, hating the words the second they leave his mouth. But Sam almost doesn't care, he's held back for so long.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean snaps back, as he walks away from his brother.

"He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day." Sam continues, even if every instinct is telling him to leave this one alone. But Dean turns back around, so Sam can't stop.

"You know what, I'm not even gonna..." Dean says with a smile, but Sam cuts him off.

"You know what, you slap on this big, fake smile, but I can see right through it. You expect me to just sit by and watch this? I can't, not anymore Dean. And I'm not even talking about all the other stuff right now. Everything in your life that I'm sure you blame yourself for, even though none of it was your fault. Bad things can happen to any of us, and it doesn't make you weak or pathetic. But this...what your doing with Gordon. I bet when he asked about Dad, you just broke down that wall. Probably didn't tell him too much, so that you wouldn't show too much weakness. But you still talked to him I'm guessing, because for some reason you feel comfortable around him. And I fucking hate that more than you can ever understand. But Dad, that's something that I feel too. He was my dad too, and I know exactly how you fell, Dean! Dad's dead! And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, and I can admit that I have no idea how that compare the pain that you were already carrying. But you know what, that hole that's there because of dad, you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to! It's an insult to his memory." Sam says, finally ending his rant. Hoping some of it got through. Hoping that maybe his brother will just let something out, anything.

Dean can't believe he just stood there and listen to that who speech, and he can see the pain in his brother's eyes. But luckily no tears, because Dean doesn't think he could handle that on top of everything else. Sam's words hit Dean in the chest like a fucking freight train, and he feels like he can't breath. So instead, he grips onto his anger tightly.

"Okay." Dean finally says, and turns to go. But instead, he quickly wheels around and punches Sam hard in the face.

Sam is slightly stunned, he really should have expected any result to what he said. But his brother has never really hit him like that before. But Dean just keeps his stance, clearly prepared to fight to prevent having a painful conversation. And that is nearly tearing Sam apart.

"You can hit me all you want. It won't change anything." Sam says, trying desperate not to break down. He feels like he can't breath.

"I'm going to that nest. You don't wanna tell me where it is? Fine. I'll find it myself." Dean walks away, not waiting for his brother to continue the conversation.

"Dean." Sam calls out, as he follows his bother.

They both enter the room, Sam slightly behind his brother. But the room is empty, no Gordon.

"Gordon?" Dean calls out, not really expecting a response.

"You think he went after 'em?" Sam asks.

"Probably."

"Dean, we have to stop him."

"Really, Sam? 'Cause I say we lend a hand."

"Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that." Sam spits back, unable to keep the pain and hurt out of his voice. Because this is more than just about the punch, and Gordon. This is about this massive steel wall between them, that his brother refuses to let down.

Dean wants to give his brother the benefit, but he can't right now. He's too worked up. "Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive, give me the keys."

Sam points to the key rack, and they see that the car keys are gone. "He snaked the keys."

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Dean was pissed, really started to not like Gordon one bit. He can't believe he had to high-jack his own damn car. But they finally get to the nest. And surprise, surprise...Gordon's already there, with a vampire tied to a chair. He's clearly been torturing the vamp, waiting for them to get here.

"Sam, Dean, come on in." Gordon calls out, when he hears the door open.

"Gordon, what's going on?" Dean asks, really not wanting his brother to be right about all this. About Gordon...about the hunt.

"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood." Gordon looks down at Lenore." She's gonna tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you?"

Gordon then look up to Dean, ignoring Sam. "Wanna help?"

"Look, man..." Dean's not really sure what to say, but all this is definitely not right.

"Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers." Gordon explains as he cuts her forearm. The poison clearly spreading through her veins, and she moans in pain.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. Let's just chill out, huh?" Dean calls out, trying to remain calm. Why did this hunt have to be so seriously fucked up. If every hunt now had this effect, Dean was seriously screwed. And would definitely be spilling his guts to his brother within a matter of hunts.

"I'm completely chill." Gordon replies, hist voice keeping Dean focused. Keeping his mind in the room, in this moment.

"Gordon, put the knife down." Sam says as he approaches Gordon, but then Dean stops him.

"But it sounds like it's Sammy who needs to chill." Gordon finally acknowledges Sam.

"Just step away from her, all right?" Sam demands.

Gordon just stares at Sam a moment, before he replies. "You're right."

Gordon puts the knife down as he continues to speak. "I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk."

Gordon takes out a much bigger knife, and both brothers can't see this conversation ending well.

"Might as well put her out of her misery." Gordon continues, and then he turns to Sam. "I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane."

"Gordon, I'm letting her go." Sam says as he walks towards Lenore.

"You're not doing a damn thing." Gordon warns, point the knife at Sam.

"Hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this." Dean plead, not wanting his brother to get hurt going after what he believes is the truth. And unfortunately, Dean is started to see what his brother was talking about. Maybe he shouldn't listen to Gordon so intently.

"What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean...no shades of gray." Gordon replies.

"Yeah, I hear you. And I know how you feel." Dean tries to remain calm, but he really doesn't like the situation they are currently in.

"Do you?" Gordon demands.

"The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but..." Dean is cut off by Gordon's laughters. And that's just not right. _What the hell?_

"Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down and I killed her myself." Gordon replies.

"You did what?" Dean asks, hoping he didn't hear him right. He killed his own sister? _Fuck._

"It wasn't my sister anymore. It wasn't human. I didn't blink...and neither would you." Gordon continues. And Dean can honestly say, that he's wrong, but he keeps the thoughts to himself. Because that's a conversation he's not ready to explain to his brother.

"So you knew all along then. You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle, and you just didn't care." Sam says, finally realizes how right Ellen was. He kind hates to be right about this, because he knows it's only going to hurt his brother.

"Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Takin' a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. It doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it." Gordon explains before grabbing Sam by the arm. He quickly cuts Sam's arm, and then holds the knife to his throat.

And this is exactly what Dean didn't want to happen, but he quickly pulls his gun.

"Let him go." Dean demands, but Gordon doesn't move. "Now!"

"Relax. If I wanted to kill him, he'd already be on the floor. Just makin' a little point." Gordon explains.

Those words should help the panic building in Dean's chest. But Dean almost wants to just beg and plead for Gordon to let his brother go, he's all that's left. But instead of making a fool of himself, Dean just keeps his gun trained on Gordon and watches the scene play out in front of him.

Sam's wound begins to drip blood onto Lenore. Quickly she bears her fangs and begins to hiss.

"Hey!" Dean calls out.

"You think she's so different? Still wanna save her? Look at her. They're all the same...evil, and bloodthirsty." Gordon explains, as he keeps Sam's arm above Lenore's face.

Lenore's teeth then return to normal, and she seems exhausted. Lenore moans, and starts to weakly shake her head. Wanting to get away from the blood.

"No. No!" Lenore moans, softly.

"You hear her, Gordon?" Sam asks, seeing the instant change in Gordon, as if he really didn't expect to hear that word coming from a vamp.

"No! No!" Lenore calls out, a little stronger.

Sam pushes away from Gordon, and holds onto his arm. "We're done here."

"Sam, get her out of here." Dean says to his brother, not lowering the gun.

"Yeah." Sam unties Lenore, and picks her up from the chair and carries her away.

Gordon is shocked for a moment, but once he see Sam trying to leave with the vampire, he tries to move towards them.

"Uh-uh! Uh-uh! Gordon...I think you and I got some things to talk about." Dean calls out, keeping Gordon in place.

Gordon does not let go of the knife as he stares down Dean. "Get out of my way."

"Sorry." Dean isn't moving.

"You're not serious." Gordon exclaims, completely surprised and pissed at the change of events.

"I'm havin' a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. You want those vampires, you've gotta go through me." Dean replies, not lowing his gun at all. He actually wouldn't mind a fight right about now.

"Fine." Gordon says, as he sticks his knife into the table.

Dean then takes the ammo out of his gun. But while he's putting the gun into his pocket, Gordon punches. Okay, total cheap shot, Dean thinks.

Dean doesn't hesitate to punch Gordon right back, but unfortunately Gordon grabs the knife from the table as he recovers.

Not exactly the fight Dean wanted...not exactly fair at all. But he'll take what he can.

Gordon swings the knife at Dean several times, and Dean avoids the sharp blade. Dean then grabs Gordon by the arm, forcing against the wall behind him. Dean hits Gordon's arm as hard as he can against the corner of the door frame next to them. He doesn't stop until the knife slips out of Gordon's hand.

"What are you doin', man? You doin' this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here!" Gordon grinds out.

"I don't think so, you sadistic bastard." Dean snaps back as they continue to fight.

Dean is punched and kicked, and is then finally thrown into a table, which disorients him for a moment. He can't lose this fight, he can't. He needs this. He needs to prove that he can still take down at least one guy.

"You're not like your brother. You're a killer, like me." Gordon says, as Dean gets to his feet.

Dean doesn't hold back as he charges Gordon, punching and kicking. Taking out so much rage on the other hunter. Rage that isn't only because of the hunt.

Gordon soon seems completely exhausted, and Dean takes the pause in the other man's fight, to grip him in a head lock. Dean walks the man back towards where he had Lenore tied up. On the way he slams Gordon's head into the wall.

"Oops. Sorry." Dean says softly, completely spent.

Dean wrestles the man into the chair, and grabs the rope. He starts tying Gordon to the chair.

"You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now." Dean replies as he finishes the knots.

Dean leans against the wall, completely exhausted by the fight. Bruises started to form on his face, and pain starting to pound his body. But he stays quiet, just watches Gordon as he waits for his brother to return.

After a couple hours, the sun start to rise, letting a little light into the cabin. Dean is still just watching Gordon, still tied up. Gordon just stares at Dean, clearly not impressed.

Sam then enters the cabin, looking around at the mess before he approaches his brother. He can tell he missed a big fight, which is probably something his brother needed. But he still can't help feeling bad that all he had to do was get the vamps clear.

"Did I miss anything?" Sam asks, knowing it's a rhetorical question.

"Na, not much. Lenore get out okay?" Dean asks.

"Yeah." Sam answers, then looks towards Gordon. "All of 'em did."

Gordon looks really really pissed off. But he remains completely silent.

"Then I guess our work here is done. How you doing, Gordy? Gotta tinkly yet? All right...well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have 'em come out, untie you." Dean explains, a little amused. He then places the knife on the table, out of Gordon's reach.

"Ready to go, Dean?" Sam asks, just wanting to get away. Get some rest.

"Not yet." Dean replies before turning back to Gordon. He smiles. "I guess this is goodbye. It's been real nice."

Dean laughs a bit, but it doesn't last. He then punches Gordon one last time, causing the chair to fall over. He pauses, looking over at Gordon, before he walks back to Sam.

"Okay. I'm good now. We can go." Dean replies lightly.

The both leaves the cabin, and walk towards the car. Sam is still holding his arm, his arm still in pain. Wondering how Dean could possibly want this kind of feeling.

Dean stops a little outside the cabin, still a little pumped from the fight. And definitely feeling like shit for how he treated his brother.

"Sam?" Dean calls out, needing his brother to stop for a moment.

"Yeah?" Sam turns to face his brother, snapped out of his thoughts.

"Clock me out." Dean replies, completely serious.

"What?" Sam asks, not sure if he heard his brother right.

"Come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go." Dean continues, bracing himself for a punch.

"No." Sam replies, a little stunned.

"Let's go, you get a freebie! hit me, come on." Dean continues, needing his brother to settle the score.

Sam scoffs, unbelievable. He really hopes this is only about getting even, and not something to do with Dean's need to psychically harm himself when he thinks he fucked up.

"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I'll take a rain check." Sam replies as he continues to walk towards the car.

Once they reach the car, Dean stops by the driver's side door. Hating this hunt completely. It really didn't do what he wanted it to do.

"I wish we never took this job, it jacked everything up." Dean says, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, not wanting to push his brother.

"Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives." Dean starts, not really sure how far he's going to go with the conversation.

"Okay." Sam says, leaving the conversation with Dean. Not really thinking the conversation is going to be that heavy, but anything is something.

"What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know, I mean, the way Dad raised us..." Dean doesn't really know how to explain it, but luckily Sam cuts him off.

"Dean, after what happened to Mom...Dad did the best he could." Sam says, actually defending their father for once, and what he put them through.

"I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. I mean, the way he raised us to hate those things, and I man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it." Dean continues.

Sam knows even a conversation like this is hard for his brother, and he really doesn't want Dean to continue to put himself down. This hunt, nothing that happened was Dean's fault. "You didn't kill Lenore."

"Yeah, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her, I was gonna kill 'em all." Dean replies.

"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters."

"Yeah..." Dean replies, not completely convinced. "Because you're a pain in my ass."

Sam laughs, he should be upset that Dean suddenly lightened the conversation. But...he doesn't know what else to do.

"Guess I might have to stick around and be a pain in the ass then." Sam replies, needed his brother to know that no matter what happens...he's never going to leave.

"Thanks." Dean says as Sam opens his door. He doesn't want to continue the conversation. But he at least wants his brother to know how much he does appreciate everything he's doing.

Sam doesn't really know how to respond. It's killing him to not ask a billion of questions in this moment, but instead... "Don't mention it."

Sam then gets into the car. Dean, however, takes a moment, looking back towards the cabin the vampires used as a nest. He feels like shit. Hunting was supposed to make everything better, not...this. So Dean takes a deep breath, and gets into the car.

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They drive in silence for a couple hours. No music, completely silent. Dean then takes a deep breath, not really knowing why he feels the need to let Sam in a little after the hell he put him through during this hunt...and everything is telling him to shut the hell up.

"How's the arm?" Dean asks. Not knowing what else to say.

"Kind of stings a little, but it's okay." Sam replies, not really knowing what else to say. He wants to ask, so badly, but he doesn't want to upset his brother. Not while he's driving.

"Do you think it needs stitches?" Dean asks.

"Maybe. But it's already starting to close up, so..." Sam feels a little awkward.

"We just passed a sign a few miles back, we should be hitting a motel in a couple minutes. It's early, but I'm wiped. Maybe we'll get room, I can stitch you up, and then we'll get some much needed rest." Dean replies.

"Sounds good." Sam replies softly, not sure what else to say.

The car fills with silence again, all the way to the motel.

Dean gets them a room, while Sam gets a couple of them bags out of the trunk.

Soon Dean finds himself stitching up Sam's arm, and the need to get some pressure off his chest is only growing.

"Sam?" Dean finally says as he finishes Sam's arm. Wrapping some bandage around the wound, and setting everything aside. He doesn't make eye contact with his brother, he can't, not yet.

"Yeah?" Sam asks as he looks at his bandaged up arm. He then looks up at his brother and sees the pain. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing...uh, never mind." Dean replies as he gets up and moves towards his bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Okay." Sam says, staying at his seat at the table. It's killing him not to push. But he's suddenly thinking back to some of the thinks Doctor Kane told him, and some of the things he read. He shouldn't push his brother right now, he should let him start the conversation on his own, then Sam can speak and push a little more.

"Okay? That's it?" Dean asks, a little surprised. He should just take the out. He really shouldn't risk having a panic attack, and needed his meds. Sam doesn't need to see how desperate he needs those pills.

"What else do you want me to say Dean? If I push, you're only going to get angry and close off that much more, and I'm tired." Sam replies.

"Isn't that my excuse for everything?" Dean asks, laughing a bit. But when he looks up at his brother, he can see that he doesn't think any of this is funny. "I'm sorry, I don't...I uh...I'm not sure what to say here."

"It's okay, we don't have to have any kind of painfully awkward talks, unless it's what you want. And you know I'll listen." Sam replies, hoping and praying that his brother is finally going to let him in. Even if it's just a little.

"Ask me again." Dean says quickly, before he can change his mind. He lowers his head, because he can't see the look on his brother's face when he finds out. He knows he's going to be pissed.

"Ask you what Dean?" Sam asks, not really sure what he's supposed to be asking.

"Come on man, don't make me say it. Please." Dean pleads, not wanting to admit another one of his failures out loud.

Sam thinks a moment, and his brain can only go back to their conversation a week ago. The conversation they had after his first meeting with Doctor Kane. Could his brother really be asking him to repeat that? Sam's not sure if he can believe it. Out of everything he thought his brother would finally talk about, this wasn't it. He thought it would he their father, or what happened at the cabin with the demon. But not this...maybe Sam's wrong. But he'll ask anyways.

"Okay, I'm not sure if this is what you mean, but I'll ask anyways. How long have you been hurting yourself Dean?" Sam asks, and when he sees the slight flinch from his brother, he knows he asked the right question.

"That's the one." Dean replies softly, instantly regretting it all now.

"Okay, so um...how long?" Sam asks again, as he remain in his seat. He really wants to go sit closer to his brother; either on his own bed or right now to Dean on his. But he also doesn't want to spoke him away from the conversation, so he stays were he is.

"Um...I uh, I don't really know. I didn't really...I um..." Dean's not sure how to explain it all without getting into to much detail.

"How old were you the first time you thought you deserved to be punished for something?" Sam asks. Knowing his brother, this probably is how it started, because Dean thought he fucked something up.

"What?" Dean asks, a little surprised.

"I know you Dean. Something goes wrong, and you try to take the whole blame. I also now that our father, besides the one time, never laid a hand on us when he screwed things up. So my own guess is, that this all started because you thought you screwed something up, maybe a hunt. And you expected Dad to punish you for it, but when he didn't...I donno, I guess you thought you needed something, anything to make up for what you think you did. Then it probably escalated. You then probably needed for a bunch of different reasons." Sam says, hoping he doesn't piss his brother off with they psych talk.

"Wow, that doctor sure is a helpful little bastard, ain't he." Dean shakes his head, because everything Sam said is completely true...and he hates that. "And I'm guessing you've been researching the stuff like crazy."

"Well, am I wrong?" Sam asks.

"No." Dean replies softly, hating the pain already apparent in his voice.

"Okay, then...was it a hunt or something? What happened?" Sam asks.

"It was Fort Douglas, Wisconsin." Dean replies, knowing his brother is going to freak out.

"What?" Sam asks. He think a moment, and his brother isn't saying anything. After a moment, the only thing he can think of, was the Shtriga. "Is that, um...the Shtriga? The one that almost got me? The one that got away? The one dad was hunting?"

Sam is started to freak out a little, he needs to be wrong. He has to be.

"Yeah." Dean confirms.

"But...no, you said that was like seventeen years ago. You were just a kid. Like, what, maybe ten at the time. You couldn't...that's, please tell me your joking." Sam asks, knowing it's not the best choice of words.

"I knew I should have kept my mouth shut." Dean replies, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He knew this would be it. His brother's going to hate him.

"No, Dean, don't. I'm not...I'm just surprised. Can you, um...at least, why?" Sam finally just settings on asking another questions. His mind still trying to figure out how a ten year old though he deserved psychical harm.

"It was a years after he um...you know, beat me a little that time. So, I donno, I just...fuck it Sam, I can't do this." Dean gets up off the bed, needed to get away.

"No, stop, please." Sam pleads, also getting up off his chair.

Dean freezes a couple feet away from his brother, he can't breath. He needs to get away. Tears continue to build in his eyes. Why didn't he just keep his mouth shut.

"It's okay, I understand alright. I do. Just, please, don't go anywhere. Can we please, just...can we please talk about this a little more. Please." Sam pleads, feeling his own tears building at the sight of his brother. He needs this conversation to go on a little longer, because who know how long it will be until Dean decides to be open again.

Dean doesn't say anything, not trusting his voice at the moment. All his energy is going towards trying not to breakdown, or running for his pills.

"Okay, just...um, sit down okay, anywhere. And I'll sit wherever you want me to, okay. Just, please." Sam doesn't know if this is working, but his brother hasn't bolted yet, so that's a good thing.

Dean just nods, and goes back to the bed. Keeping his head down, avoiding his brother's stare.

"I'm just going to stay at the table, okay." Sam says softly, as he sits back down on the chair.

Dean nods again, not sure what to say. He hates his. Hate the tears that are desperately trying to ruin him.

"Okay, um...can I ask when you first cut yourself...on purpose." Sam asks, knowing that at a young age, Dean probably didn't come across self-mutilation on his own accord. Either he found out about it somehow and tried it, or it was a complete accident.

"Um...well, it did kind of start off an accident, I guess. But um...Sammy, fuck." Dean's finding it harder to breath, because, sure he didn't turn to a blade when he was ten. But he was still young. He's brother is still going to hate him. And really, back then he probably didn't expect his father to beat him either. But for some reason, at ten years old, he felt he needed to be punished. Something, so that his father wouldn't look at him like _that_ anymore. Like a big disappointment.

"Dean, it's okay, just breath through it. I'm not going anywhere. No matter what you say, I'm not leaving this room." Sam says quickly, trying to make sure his brother doesn't panic. He knows how hard this much be for his brother, but he's actually proud of him right now, despite the topic of conversation.

"You say that now." Dean replies softly, a tear finally breaking free, and running down his face. Dean quickly wipes the tear away. But he knows it's only a matter of time before he completely shatters.

"Please, Dean, just give me a time. We don't have to get into the painful why's and all that. I just want to know how long it's been going on." Sam says, hoping his brother won't feel like he's being pushed into a corner. Sam feels like crying when he sees the tear run down his brother's face, but he keeps it all together. This isn't about him. And he has a feeling that his brother is soon going to lock himself in the bathroom or something, so that's when Sam will allow himself to break.

"Fourteen I think." Dean finally replies.

"That long?" Sam asks, cringing the second the words leave his mouth.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't that bad, not back then. But it slowly escalated, you know. And now...I just...I need it Sam. I'm sorry that your dissappointed in me, but I need it. I'm so sorry." More tears run down Dean's face as he speaks, continuing to avoid looking at his brother.

"Dean, I'm not disappointed in you. How could you think that." Sam asks.

"Why wouldn't you be? I'm so fucking stupid. Weak, patetic. Dad was right. Look at me. Seriously." Dean continues to wipes the tears from his face, but they won't stop.

"That wasn't dad, Dean. And you know it. That was the demon. You're not pathetic, or weak, or a disappoint." Sam says, needed his brother to understand.

"No, you're wrong, Sam." Dean cries, needed to get away. His body is shaking, and he feels his lung screaming at him. Dean quickly gets up, knowing he can't get to the exit, without passing Sam. So he'll go for the washroom.

Sam is up, anticipating this the whole time. He rushes to Dean, pulling him away from the bathroom door, holding him against the wall. Pinning him, but holding onto his brother's upper arms. He hates this, and he knows with everything he shouldn't hold his brother down. But he needs Dean to understand.

The pain on his brother's face, as he tries so hard not to completely breakdown is killing Sam. But he needs to do this.

"Please, Dean, listen to me, okay. That wasn't Dad. Everything that was said that night, in the cabin. That's wasn't our Dad, okay." Sam says, loudly, needing to get through to his brother. Seeing the walls already starting to thicken.

"No, it doesn't matter. That's what Dad felt, regardless of what you think. That's how we were raised Sam. Come on, you know as well as I do. So stop making fucking excuses for me." Dean shouts, tears continuing to run down his face.

"No, Dad may think basic human emotions were a weakness to the job, but this...Dean, this isn't, okay. No matter what you think. None of this is your fault. You bottle everything up, it makes sense that you needed an outlet. It's not really the best, and I really hope you can trust me enough one of these days to let me help you." Sam pleads, feeling his own tears pushing at his barriers.

"No, no, please, no. You're wrong." Dean just shakes his head, needing to get out his brother's grip. Painful memories clouding his mind. He can't breath. He can't think.

"Dean, I hate to say this, but it's true. You need help." Sam says, hating the words the second he speaks them. Because he knows how Dean's going to take them.

"Fuck you Sam!" Dean shouts. "I don't fucking need some shrink telling me how to deal. Telling me none of it was my fault. Telling me that...no. Fuck you! I can't."

Dean tries to pull out of his brother's grip, but Sam only holds on tighter.

"I didn't mean it like that Dean, and you know it. I know you'd never talk to a shrink. But you can talk to me. I want to help. Please, let me help you." Sam pleads, feeling the conversation quickly slipping out of his control.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this Sammy. I'm sorry." Dean replies, completely defeated. He leans back against the wall, no energy left.

Sam lessens his grip on his brother's arm, but doesn't let go you. "You need to Dean, one of this days, or it's going to destroy you."

Sam then takes a step back, and Dean doesn't waste anytime. He quickly rushes into the bathroom, locking the door.

Sam leans against the bathroom door, tears now running down his face.

"I'm sorry, Dean. This fucking sucks. I hate not knowing what to do here. I hate not being able to help you. You've helped me my entire life. And I'm so grateful, you have no idea. So, please, let me give back. Let me help you through this. Hurting yourself, pushing it all away, it's clearly not helping anymore Dean. It probably never was." Sam says, needed his brother to his this, even if he feels a little ridiculous talking to the door.

Inside the washroom, Dean's collapsed against the ground. Curling himself up in the corner, next to the door. He's shaking, tears running down his face. He's trying so hard to suppress any sound.

"Please, go away." Dean chokes out, hating how desperate and pathetic his voice sounds.

"I'm not going anywhere, I already told you that. But I'll drop it, again, for now. I'll let you have your space. But you know you can't keep running from all this. You know I'm never going to leave you over what you've been through. Over what wasn't your fault, no matter your telling yourself." Sam continues.

Dean can't speak anymore, it's too hard. He can barely breath, the need to out-right sob is suffocating. Because he doesn't have anything else, nothing to help him in this moment. No pills, and nothing sharp. Not that it matters, he can't even move from this spot.

"Okay, um...I'm going to do some research or something. Blast some music out here, alright." Sam takes a step back from the door, waiting for a responce he knows he's not going to get. "I'm sorry."

Sam walks over to his back, and pulls out his laptop. He knows that his brother is trying to be quiet, despite the fact that he knows Sam knows that he's crying. But Sam will respect his brother's wish. He'll ignore the sounds, and give some noise to try and cover it up. Even though the sound of Dean sobbing back at the hospital, after their father died, is still burned into Sam's brain.

Inside, Dean waits until he hears music playing from outside the washroom before he completely breakdown. He wants to thank his brother. He doesn't have to go out of his way to make things easier for him, but he does.

But the reality of everything is terrifying. If he can barely get through this conversation without needed to escape in order to break. How is he ever going to have the big conversation that's been sitting in his mind for over a year, and that's been bugging Sam for a little less than that.

But Dean can't think about that now. He just needs to let all this out. Wait until he can breath again, before hoping into the shower, getting ready for bed, and pretending like none of this happened.

He has the feeling that he'll never be ready to do what Sam keeps asking him to do, but he has to admit, he knows Sam's right. He does need help, and Sam is the only one he'd ever except to go to for it. But how can he get himself to that point where he'll finally be able to ask?

**TBC**

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**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

Again, so sorry for the wait. Should have the next few chapters coming out quicker than I have been lately...since hours at my job are going to be very minimal until the end of the month.

Thanks.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

**Review Response**:

Hogaboom: Thanks again for the review. Glad your sticking to the story, and enjoying it.

Thanks to adictd2life, tienje23, rholou for your kind reviews.

So sorry for the long wait, I wanted to get this out sooner but had a hard time getting in the zone. Hope the chapter was worth the wait.

Warning: Slight reference to self-harm, sexual situations, with small amount of non-con.

Again, I self-edited. All mistakes are my own.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 16. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 16 - CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS**

Sam should be exhausted, but sleep is the last thing on his mind. His brother has been in the washroom for over two hours now, only music to cover up the pained noises. The last forty some minutes the shower has been running, but Sam's not sure if Dean actually decided to randomly have a shower after finally pulling it together, or if the shower was just another way to put off leaving the comfort of his locked solitude.

Sam's not even sure what he's going to do when his brother finally decides to exit the bathroom. It is definitely not going to be pleasant.

Sam was able to cry silently for the first half hour or so before he just shut himself off. Because his tears weren't being shed because of his own inner battles or pain, no, he was in tears because of the pain that's eating his brother away. And Sam refused to be crying his eyes out when Dean finally decided to quit hiding.

Those first few minutes where awkward, and they were replaying in Sam's mind now. Sam can only imagine the extra pain and self hatred Dean was inflicting upon himself because of it. Because not only has his little brother witnessed his near meltdown that their conversation created, but his little brother was also able to catch moments where he could hear his total lose of control in the bathroom as he cried so hard. Sam knew exactly what was probably going through his brother's mind, thinking he's worthless and pathetic. This just kills Sam a little more inside. How did they get here? Why does Sam have to be so helpless? Why can't this be easier?

See those few moments that Sam was thinking back to, that was created by his own doing. Because well, Sam doesn't have any CDs. He's tried to convince his brother several time to upgrade from cassette to CD, but nothing. If he'd won that argument, this wouldn't have happened. Because when he told his brother he'd play some cover music, that meant Sam had to get his laptop connected to the internet, go on youtube, because Sam's brain couldn't think of any other way to find music at the moment. He quickly typed in the first band he could think of that would be approved by his brother, and selected a video playlist, and let the music fill the room.

Sure he couldn't hear Dean's heart-breaking sobs, but Sam didn't need to hear them to know they were there. But as the first song ended, the problem with the internet based playlist became painfully obvious. As the first song ended there was at least a ten second delay before the next in the playlist of videos would load. During the first two pauses or so, time almost had no meaning. Dean must have heard the break because Sam could hear him suck in a painful gasp. The room then would fill with silence. Sam could only imagine the lengths his brother was going through to remain quiet. But this only lasted a couple song delays, then no matter what, Dean couldn't silence his sobs. Sam couldn't decide which of the two was worst.

So now, nearly two and a half hours later, there is complete silence. No music, no sobs, and no running water. Sam can now only wait for his brother to exit the bathroom. Sam, however, wouldn't be surprised if Dean decided to just camp out inside the washroom all night, just to delay the awkwardness that Sam hopes he can avoid for the sake of his brother. Sure, during these few hours Sam hasn't been able to think of one thing to say to his brother that wouldn't make him just run that much faster, or build that many more walls. So Sam just has to pray for the best.

Sam's had a lot of time to think, which he can imagine that his brother only cried and stressed, and knocked himself just a little further down the self hatred and worthless pole. Sam can only assume that the air between them is going to be so stiff, that Dean is going to be begging for a new hunt. But their track record for hunts after their father's death hasn't been that great. But Sam actually has something else in mind, something he's wanted to do for a while...well, maybe after a couple sessions with Doctor Kane. It's weird that after these last few days, Sam feels himself missing therapy...or at the very least Bobby.

The only problem with what Sam wants to do, is bring it up to Dean. He knows it's not the best time. He knows his brother's going to hate it. And it probably won't help with all the drama that his brother is trying to work through. At the same time, however, it's something Sam needs to do. Something he needs to do for himself, to help with his grief over all the loss in his own life. Because Sam has come to the realization, in the last few hours, that it may take a life time for his brother to finally feel comfortable dealing with his issues.

Sam is staring at his cellphone, seriously needing to talk to someone before he makes the decision, when finally Dean exits the washroom. Sam looks up and forces himself to keep the neutral look on his face. He doesn't want his brother to miss read him, and think he's ashamed or pities him.

Dean's hair is damp, so he clearly did hop in the shower. But seeing as he didn't plan locking himself in the bathroom, he's back in his clothes he was wearing earlier, and looks so exhausted that Sam could see his brother just passing out like that. Dean's face is clean, all the evidence that might have been there an hour ago to show his breakdown was clearly washed away by the shower water.

There are a million things Sam wants to say to his brother in this moment, but nothing comes out. This moment is so important, because it can break what little rebuilding the two brother's have done in the last few weeks, or it can make it a little stronger.

Dean, however, is trying so hard not to freak out. Those two some hours he spent in the bathroom were completely and total hell. He's never cried so much in his life, even after their father died. However, that time is probably still in the top 5. And Dean hates that he's been so freakin' vulnerable over the last year and a bit.

Dean thought it was going to be painfully awkward, entering the main area of the room again. But Sam's surprisingly quiet. Dean hates that he can't confide in his brother. But years of believe that openness and vulnerability is a weakness, it's a little hard for Dean to undo that thinking. But how can Dean expect to be open and honest with his brother, when just this conversation sent him over the edge. Or how about the fact that he still refuses to look at everything that happened that night in New Orleans.

So now, the two brother's remain awkwardly silent, neither sure what to say. Both worried about saying the wrong thing.

Dean sits down on his bed, and runs a slightly shaky hand through his still damp hair. Someone has to say something soon, or Dean's going to freak out...again. And Dean's not sure he's quite ready to have the pill popping conversation yet, sure they are prescribed to him...but still. Dean doesn't want Sam do see him panic, and desperately rummage through his bag in need to get to his pills. He's surprised he didn't die in the bathroom. He could barely breath, his sobs trying to destroy him. So Dean takes a deep breath, and says the only thing he knows he can. Get things back to normal, brushing everything else far far away.

"So...uh..." Dean hesitates at first, suddenly second guessing everything as his voice comes out hoarser then usual from all the crying.

Sam jumps a little out the son of his brother's voice. It's not so much how it sounds, because he's actually surprised Dean has much of a voice left at all. It's more the fact that Dean's the one that is starting a conversation. Sam then looks over to his brother, curious as to what he's about to say.

"Um...I guess we should get some rest. Start looking for a new hunt tomorrow." Dean finally continues, avoiding his brother's stare.

"Dean...do you really think..." Sam not really sure how to say that he doesn't think another hunt is the right thing to do right now. He doesn't want his brother to...well, he can only assume his brother is going to take it wrong.

"Do I really think...what?" Dean asks, finally looking up at his brother. Hoping his brother isn't going to say what he's pretty sure he's about to say. Because it's going to kill him. He can't just sit around during down time, having only Sam for company. He needs a hunt. Needs something to kill. _Okay, so maybe our last two hunts since their father died haven't exactly...but that doesn't mean...shit._ Dean feels pretty screwed right now.

"Um...nothing. I'm sure we'll get enough rest and then search for a new hunt. It's nothing." Sam replies, hoping his brother won't hate him later when he finds out what Sam really wants to do next. Sam really doesn't think right this second is the right time to bring up wanting to visit their mother's grave.

"Okay." Dean replies softy, not really sure what else to say. If he had any tears left in his body, he's sure his eyes would be filling with them again right now. He hates this feeling.

"Dean, this doesn't have to be painfully awkward. Okay?" Sam says, noticing the distress on his brother's face.

"I don't know what your talking about Sam." Dean replies, trying to sound calm and closed off, but he's sure he sounds weak and pathetic.

"Look, I know that...uh, I don't regret that conversation." Sam finally states, hoping he doesn't piss his brother off.

"What?" Dean asks, slightly confused, looking towards Sam.

"I know it was hard, and this isn't me trying to re-open it or anything. I'm just saying that it doesn't make me see you any differently. I still don't think you're weak, or pathetic or any of those negative names you think that I might associate you with now. Okay? So...let's just not get all weird about it, and not ignore it. Because we both know how much I know about...you know. And as much as it still kills me, I will be patient. I will wait for you to start it, just like you did today. Okay. So...just take your time." Sam says, hoping all that makes sense to his brother. It's not like he prepared anything to say to his brother. But he needs to make sure his brother isn't going to retreat into himself.

"Stupid." Dean replies softly, having looked away from Sam during his little speech.

"What?" Sam asks, not sure he head his brother right. Did he call him stupid?

"What about stupid?" Dean asks.

"I don't...what do you mean?" Sam asks, still confused.

"Well, you for some reason don't think I'm weak or pathetic. I want to believe you, so badly. But what about stupid?" Dean asks, despite his better judgement. He doesn't understand himself lately. He's pushed against his brother for so long, why does he suddenly want to rip himself open...emotionally.

"Dean." Sam replies softly, hurt apparent in his voice. Tears stinging his eyes, but Sam refuses to cry. He won't put that on his brother.

"You're not...damn it Dean, you're not stupid. What you're doing to yourself, it's not exactly...uh, well, it's not the best choice to make. But I'll never think that your stupid. Stubborn, definitely, but not stupid. You just...you need..." Sam doesn't want to finish, but Dean cuts him off.

"I know." Dean says softly, shocking both of them. This isn't exactly him asking for help, but it's the closest Dean's gotten to admitting that he needs it.

"I'm sorry." Sam replies just as softly, not sure what else to say to that. He was expecting his brother to yell and scream, and deny any need for help. But this broken acceptance nearly sends Sam over the edge. Luckily, Sam knows his brother has not intention on making this that conversation. So Sam's pretty sure he can hold it together until Dean gets to sleep.

"Damn, I can't believe how early it is. It's not even night out." Dean finally says, looking out the window to see that the sun hasn't even started to set. It's only a little after seven in the evening.

Sam too looks over at the window, and is surprised. Mind you, it really shouldn't surprise them. They left Gordon pretty early in the morning, and only drove a few hours before getting to this motel. Sam knows that Dean must be exhausted, regardless of the time. Hell, Sam should be too, but Sam's wide awake. They both didn't sleep at all last night, but Sam wasn't the one getting his ass kicked.

"You need the rest Dean, it's not a bad thing to go to sleep this early, in a relatively...well, a bed." Sam replies.

"Ya, I guess. Um...thanks Sam. I don't...uh, good night." Dean settles on, awkwardly. There are so many things he wants to say to his brother, but Dean doesn't want to risk another dramatic blow-up. So Dean gets up, and gets in bed.

"Goodnight Dean. I'm just going to head out for a bit, okay? I'm actually starved." Sam says, as he gets up, picking up his cellphone and the Impala keys.

"Kay." Dean replies, getting comfy. He really doesn't want his brother to leave, but at the same time, Dean's worried about what's going to happen when he fall asleep. At Bobby's he was alone, in his own room. And the last few hunts, nothing really happened. But now, after their conversation, Dean feels wide open to the night-terrors waiting for him when he closes his eyes.

Luckily, Sam leaves pretty quickly, so Dean relaxed and lets himself fall asleep. Hoping that if any nightmares decide to make an appearance, they do so while Sam is out of the room. Sam doesn't need to see that. Doesn't need to witness Dean trapped in a nightmare, or the panic he's in when he finally wakes up.

Outside, Sam closes the door behind him and walks towards the parking lot. He feels exhausted all of a sudden, and soon a tear rolls down his cheek. Sam's too exhausted to care, and doesn't bother wiping it away.

Sam gets into the backseat of the Impala, and collapses. What is he supposed to do? He can't sleep, there is too much racing through his mind. He quickly opens his cellphone and dials Bobby. He's glad their hunt was so odd, that they are crashing at a decent hour. He doesn't have to worry about waking Bobby.

After a couple rings, Bobby's voice finally comes through the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Bobby, it's Sam." Sam replies, knowing he probably sounds beat.

"Hey, you boys done that hunt already?" Bobby asks, choosing to ignore the exhaustion behind Sam's voice. Hoping that it's only because of the hunt, but knowing that it's probably something more than that. Bobby instantly wishes he was with the boys now.

"Yeah, it was...well, it was messed up Bobby." Sam replies, he voice breaking slight as he reveals to Bobby how messed up the hunt was.

"Why? What happened? Is everything okay?" Bobby asks, instantly panicked. Willing to hope in the car and drive to whenever he's needed.

"We're fine, uh, it just didn't turn out to be the hunt we were expecting." Sam reassures Bobby, calmly. Building up the conversation slowly, knowing that if he rushes it he's only going to end up in tears, and Bobby really doesn't need that right now, especially not over the phone.

"What did it turn out to be?" Bobby asks, letting Sam set the pace of the conversation. Knowing any minute it will shift, and he gets himself ready. Relaxing back into his comfy couch in his living room with a hot cup of coffee.

"Vampires, but they weren't the bad guys, if you can believe that. They were responsible for the cattle mutilations, but they weren't killing people." Sam explains.

"They why do you sound like this one was a tough one." Bobby asks, still a little concerned.

"Gordon Walker. Heard of him?" Sam asks.

"I think, he's hunter, and apparently a good one. But never ran into him myself. Why?" Bobby asks, really wishing the boys could just catch a break.

"He was on this hunt first, but Dean wouldn't leave. He needed to kill something. And well...Gordon's...Dean completely bonded with him, and I said some things I shouldn't, and Dean punched me." Sam goes to continue with the cliff-notes of the hunt, but quickly realizes he should probably have left out the fact that Dean punched him, because Bobby cuts him off and he sounds pissed.

"That boy did what?" Bobby shouts through the phone.

"Bobby, please, it's not a big deal." Sam replies quickly, trying to back-pedal out of the mess he created, only intensifying the rift between his brother and Bobby.

"Not a big deal, how hard did that ijit hit you? You got brain damage boy? When is it alright for family to beat each other? Huh? How does that make us any better than the animals?" Bobby demands, not lighting up on his anger.

"Bobby, you don't understand...I pushed him too hard. Accused him of trying to replace our father with Gordon. I was just upset. He seemed so relaxed and comfortable around him. More so than he's been around me. I just got angry, and said it, and I shouldn't have. I deserved it, okay?" Sam snaps back, feeling his own anger rise. It's not exactly what Sam wanted when he called Bobby, but this will do well enough. Anger is an emotion, not the one he thought he'd be dumping onto Bobby, but...oh, well.

"Don't you say that, you didn't deserve anything of the sort, Sam. Don't start with this self-hate crap." Bobby replies,

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm just completely exhausted but not tired at the same time. If that makes any sense." Sam doesn't really know why he called, he should have just went for a walk or something. Bobby doesn't need any of this.

Sam can hear Bobby sigh on the other end of the line, before he speaks. "So what happened...with the hunt?"

"Just kept getting weirder. Dean was convinced the vampires weren't a threat. I got the vampires out of the area safely, while Dean...I can only assume had a massive fight with Gordon. When I got back, the place was a mess, they were but bruised pretty good, and Gordon was tied to a chair. We left him there. Come to think of it, maybe someone should get him out of there soon." Sam rambles, trying to put off the painful part of the events he's planning on recalling to Bobby.

"Okay, I'll give some people a call tomorrow or something, how does that sound?" Bobby asks, getting the impression that he wouldn't like this Gordon Walker character.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam knows this is where the easy conversational topics end, and Sam shiver, wrapping his free arm around his body. He's not cold, but he feels uneasy.

"Sam? You okay?" Bobby asks, getting the impression that Sam didn't call just to inform him about how the hunt went.

"Fourteen Bobby, God. I don't know if I can handle all this." Sam blurts out, voice cracking. Ripping off the band-aid sure hurts like a bitch, Sam thinks, as he finally lets the real reason he called be brought up. And already he feels his eyes starting to sting.

"What are you talking about Sam?" Bobby asks, his tone instantly lightens. He's confused, but also very concerned as he can only imagine the youngest Winchester trying not to cry.

"That's when Dean...he..." Sam doesn't know how to explain what he learnt. Tears are building to the point of release, but Sam refuses to let them fall...for at least as long as he can.

"That's when he started hurting himself. Damn it Bobby, how does that even factor into a fourteen year olds mind? How did I never know? How did Dad not know?" Sam asks, desperate to understand.

"That long, damn. John sure made that boy grow up far too quickly. I...I'm so sorry, I don't know. What else did he say? It wasn't that bad back then, right? It couldn't have been Sam." Bobby exclaims, hoping that Dean was dealing with something huge even at that age.

"No, he said it escalated. Bobby, I should be happy, he started this conversation. He confided in me. But...really, I don't understand. He's in so much pain, and he's been through so much. He gives me a little, and then shuts down that much more. One steps forward...two back, huh?" Sam laughs out, bitterly, trying to hold the tears in.

"It's a step Sam. I know it doesn't seem like that now, but it's still a step in the right direction." Bobby replies, not sure if he's being any help at all.

"I don't understand Bobby. He was just a kid, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't, I swear. Why would dad do that to him? And I'm fine, I'm still here, aren't I? I'm fine. Why? Why would a ten year old little boy think he needed to be psychically punished. It's not fair Bobby." Sam rants, tears running freely down his face as he lets the words break free. The emotional flood-gate finally breaking open. He knows if he could actually think straight, he wouldn't even understand himself, but....right now, nothing makes sense.

"Calm down Sam, just take it easy..." Bobby replies softly, trying to sooth the younger man. Hating that this conversation is happening over the phone.

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam says, as he wipes the tears from his eyes. He still doesn't feel in control, but he needs to pull it together for at least the next couple minutes. Until he gets off the phone.

"Wait a minute. I thought you said he started when he was fourteen?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah." Sam continues to dry his face with his free hand, but the tears continue to run silently down his face. He's able to suppress the sobs, but the tears won't light up.

"But you just said he messed up something when he was ten? What...I'm confused." Bobby hates that he can't put together a better sentence than that, but he's trying to understand. He never thought he'd have someone leaning on him, emotionally. This is all new to him, and he's trying the best he knows how.

"Sorry Bobby, um...when Dean was ten, Dad left to hunt a Shtriga. The thing nearly got me, because Dean was bored and stepped out of the room for a bit. Dean seems to think our Dad blamed him for it, and never looked at him the same again. And he thought...uh, he thought our Dad was going to beat him. And when that didn't...well, you get it, right?" Sam asks, not wanting to talk about this much more.

Bobby remains silent for a moment, before cursing under his breath. "Damn it John."

"So, I mean, I hate that I'm telling you this. I feel like I'm betraying him, but I can't keep it all inside. What's wrong with me?" Sam pleads, feeling the sobs continue to push at his chest.

"Sam, nothing's wrong with you. Not everyone's like your brother. I'm glad you're talking to someone Sam, and I really don't mind listening. I promise, things will work itself out, I hope." Bobby says, not wanting to completely promise something that is pretty much out of is control.

"How?" Sam asks, still pleading with Bobby to give him the answer.

"Just give him more time." Bobby replies, not sure if that will help at all.

"You're really starting to sound like Doctor Kane." Sam says with a bitter laugh.

"You're shrink? Is that a good, or bad thing?" Bobby asks, a smile in his voice. Hoping everything is a little lighten now, despite everything.

"I donno. He's helped a lot. I mean, I told him things about Dean that I just can't tell you. You know?" Sam starts.

"I know Sam, it's okay." Bobby knows there's a lot he's still in the dark about. Hell, he knows the only reason he knows about the cutting is because he was there when it blew up.

"He says to give him space, let him start the conversation. Which he did today. Doctor Kane tells me, don't rush him. Don't back him into a corner where he'd feel trapped. And don't judge him. I mean, come on, that's all kind of common sense. But at the same time, how long am I supposed to just sit by and watch these issues destroy by brother, and rip him away from me, before I can actually do something to help me?" Sam asks, now suddenly angry at how completely helpless he feels.

"I know Sam, none of this is fair. I wish I could tell you more, but I don't know the whole story. And even if I did, I'm not sure I'd know what to say. I'm sorry. You just have to be there for him, you're helping him. You really are. Even if it doesn't seem like it. I'm sure he'd be much worst off if you weren't by his side." Bobby tries to be smart, tries to say the right thing, but he's not sure if it's helping. He really wishes he was there with the boys. Really wishes he wasn't having this conversation over the phone.

"I know Bobby." Sam sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. Who knew an emotionally draining conversation would be a cure to his unwillingness to go to sleep. "Thanks Bobby."

"You know you and your brother are welcome back anytime. And you can call me at anytime. Even late late at night." Bobby says, knowing Sam will probably be wrapping up the conversation soon anyways.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam replies, feeling a little relieved now. A small weight off his chest.

"You boys going after another hunt now?" Bobby asks.

"That's what Dean wants, but...um..." Sam doesn't know how to explain what he really wants to know. He knows Dean's really not going to go for it.

"What Sam?" Bobby asks, feeling confused again.

"There's something I've wanted to do for awhile, after a couple sessions with Doctor Kane. But it was too soon, I thought it would only hurt Dean. But I don't know if Dean will ever be okay with it. But it's...god I feel like such an asshole, but it's something I need to do." Sam explains, needing Bobby to understand. Hopefully not hate him, like Dean will most likely once he gets around to denying his brother a hunt in order for him to pursue is one selfishness.

"You're not an asshole, or selfish. If it's something you need to do, something to help with your own grief and pain...you're brother will understand. He might fight you on it, but he wont' deny it to you." Bobby explains, not wanting to push Sam into revealing what it is he needs to do unless he wants to.

"Okay, um...but he's going to think it's stupid. I uh, I want to visit our mother's grave. I've never been, at least, not that I can remember. With everything, I just..." Sam feels new tears stinging his eyes, tears of griefs, not over his brother.

"It's not stupid Sam." Bobby replies, feeling new pain

"Thanks Bobby, look, I really appreciate this. But um...I think I'm going to head back to the room and get some rest. Dean's not going to be so happy with me in the morning." Sam feels like he could pass out right here, in the backseat on the Impala. But that would just be weird in the morning.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later." Bobby replies, hoping he's helped Sam out a little.

"Thanks. Bye" Sam says before he hangs out the phone. The sun is only now starting to set, and Sam feels weird about going to bed so early. Just like his brother voiced earlier. But the more Sam thinks about it, the nicer is feels. He might get a nice long rest tonight...well, long at least. If it doesn't take him forever to actually fall asleep.

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Inside Dean is trapped in a nightmare, unaware of the painful conversation his brother is having with Bobby.

Dean can't wake up. The dream started off fine, nothing special. But that soon morphed into a nightmare featuring his father and the yellow eye demon. But quickly that morphed into something he really didn't want to see.

_Dean lie numbly on the bed. Slightly trembling. An intense pain throbbing within him like a steady heartbeat. Tears silently running down his face. A man on top of him, grunting in sheer pleasure. Laughter continues to fill the room._

Dean start to shift in his bed, wanting to wake up. But his exhausted wins out, and he remains trapped. He's unaware of the motel room opening.

Sam opens the door, the light of the outdoors spilling into the room. Sam is shocked to see Dean shaking, twisting and turning in his bed.

Sam quickly closes the door, and the room becomes darker. Only a small amount of light pushing through the blinds over the windows.

"No..." Dean mumbles in his sleep.

Sam freezes as he now notices tears running down his brother's face. His own tears now running down his face again. He can only guess what horrors his brother is experiencing. Every instinct is telling him to wake his brother up. But another voice is telling him that would be the biggest mistake he could ever make.

What would Dean do if Sam woke him up? He'd feel trapped. He's feel worthless for showing more weakness. And Sam can't take that. So Sam does the only thing he can thing of. Get out of the room, but hope he can make some noise to wake his brother up.

Sam quietly walks to his bag, and looks for something to sleep in.

"Please...stop." Dean mumbles some more. Most of what he's saying, Sam can't hear. But please, and stop comes out very clear.

Sam feels like he's going to be sick, and he quickly makes his way to the washroom. Once he's inside he turns on the water, and turns on the shower. Hoping and praying that the noise from the shower will wake his brother up from his terror, but save Dean from believing that he knows about the nightmares at all.

Outside, Dean continues to toss.

_The man pulls out, and steps away from Dean. A wide grin on his face._

"_What do you have to say to me now?" The man asks with a sneer._

"_Please." Dean pleads, brokenly. His voice barely above a whisper._

"_Aren't so tough now, are you...bitch." The man replies, clearly assumed._

_There is blood down Dean's leg, and soaked into the sheets under Dean's leg and lower back. Dean can barely feel it, but he knows it's there. At least, he hopes it's only blood. He's never thought this would ever happen to him, not in a million years. But he knows what all this means. _

_He's barely aware of one of the larger men getting off the bed, until he's standing in front of Dean. The larger man grabs a hold of Dean's cock. Dean almost wants to laugh, because he knows there's no way he's getting hard. No change in hell. _

"_Stop. Please." Dean moans, not sure what to expect next. What more can they do to him, that the first man hasn't already done._

"_Damn." The man exclaims as he plunges a finger into Dean's ass. _

_Dean doesn't even flinches, despite the new pain the single finger causes, putting pressure on his abused body. _

"_He's going to be so torn." _

Dean jolts awake at the noise of the shower water. Dean can't breath. He's never remember that much. He's never allowed it to go that far.

He wants to thank his brother, thank him for the distraction. And only prays that it wasn't intentional. But he can't breath, can't think, and most definitely can't speak. Even if his brother was in the room, he couldn't tell him what he saw.

This new image, seared into his brain. There's no going back, only forward. Sooner or later, he's mind is going to remember everything. And by what his brother says, and probably what a shrink would say, is that he's mind is telling him he's ready to heal. But he's not. They don't understand. He's not ready for this. He just wants it all deleted.

Dean quickly stumbles out of his bed, his anxiety pills not even apart of his thoughts at the moment. He needs to get outside.

The moment he gets outside, Dean drops to his nears and throws up. There isn't much in his stomach to begin with, so it isn't long before he's dry heaving, trying to catch his breath. Fresh tears running down his face.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

The new images replay in his mind. The blood. Dean cringes. Of course he new he bled...down there. The doctors told him he was pretty torn. But he healed, so that's all that matter. And considering he's clean of an sexual diseases, he can only pray that the men used protection, and blood was the only bodily fluid that surrounded him that night.

Dean shakes, _stop! _Dean doesn't want to think about this anymore, and he wills the images to go away. This isn't the time. If he thinks about it more, who knows what might happen. The story might continue. Dean can barely survive knowing what only one man put him threw. He doesn't want to know what the other two did to him.

Dean knows he doesn't have much time. He needs to shovel all this away. He needs it gone. He has an overwhelming need to scrub his body clean, despite the fact that he knows his pain happened over a year ago. But the new memory makes it feel fresh. Like it just happened.

Besides, he's pretty sure Sam would find it weird if he had another shower. _Shit, Sam._

Sam could be out of the shower any minute. But Dean can't go back to sleep. He can't risk it. He doesn't even want to sit on the bed. It's too hard.

Dean slowly stands up and walks into the room. Luckily his brother is still in the shower, and Dean is unaware that Sam is taking his time for his brother's sake.

Dean finds his pills in his bag, and cringes at the sight. Only one pottle left, with barely half the pills that originally filled the bottle still left inside. Dean really can't have this conversation with his brother yet, but what is he going to do when he runs out. Can he really go behind his brother's back? More lies. More secrets.

Dean swallows two pills, and collapses onto a chair by the table. He still feels sick. The nightmare still lingering. He feels completely weak and retarded. Hating the fact that he was beat down to a whimpering, begging little child. Someone who got himself in that fucked up situation.

It isn't long before Sam enters the room, dressed for bed, looking exhausted. Dean doesn't know what to say when he meets his brother's eyes.

Neither of the boys say anything to each other as Sam gets into his bed, and get under his covers.

"You should really get some more sleep Dean." Sam mumbles before he rolls over, and tries to sleep.

Sam hates that he's ignoring the obvious. He feels like a horrible brother, and a complete soulless bastard.

Dean is surprised, but relieved at the fact Sam doesn't say any more. But now what is he supposed to do. He can't sleep. He can't leave, because where would he go?

So Dean opens Sam's laptop and begins to search for their next possible hunt.

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Sam finds himself in the passengers seat of the Impala the next day, Dean completely silent. He's not really surprised. Dean didn't take all this very well, but finally agreed to at least drive Sam to where he wanted to go.

Sam was surprised when Dean didn't fight as much as he did. Sam's sure it has to do with the fact that Dean's exhausted, but still refuses to let Sam drive. Not wanting to sleep around his younger brother.

Sam is surprised when Dean finally speaks up. But isn't surprised to learn that it's only to voice his disbelief, and annoyance some more.

"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid." Dean grumbles, still not sure why he agreed to this. He doesn't think this is really the right this to do, he's a little too close to the edge right now.

"Why?" Sam asks, hoping it's safe to ask. This is about their mom, not about all the...other stuff. At least, Sam hopes that's the case.

"Going to visit Mom's grave? I mean, she doesn't even have a grave. There was no body left after fire." Dean replies, surprisingly numb to the conversation.

Sam's also a little surprised. This is the lightest conversation about their mom. Growing up, they wouldn't take about her much. And now...Sam's a little confused.

"She has a headstone." Sam decides not to push, and let his brother steer the conversation. That is what everyone tell him to do, so let's see if it really works. Hasn't so far...but, Sam doesn't really have the energy for anything else.

"Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man that we've never even met. So, you wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on." Dean just wants to hunt, want to kill something. Want something with no strings attached, no fucking drama.

"Dean, that's not the point." Sam replies, wanting his brother to understand, but not sure he ever will. Sam and Dean both have a different feel for their mother, and the lose that goes with it. Neither can really grasp the other's pain, but they both sometimes try. But secretly wishing they had the other brother's pain instead of their own. Sam knew this must be hard for his brother, but he can't deny himself this. He needs this.

"Well, then, enlighten me, Sam." Dean snaps, not really caring. He wants to understand, he does. He'd just rather be ignoring it all, and hunting.

"It's not about a body, or a casket. It's about her memory, okay?" Sam replies, just wanted to get this over with so there's one less thing to argue with his brother over.

"Mm." Dean doesn't even know what to say to that, so he just focuses on the road ahead.

"And after Dad, it just...it just feels like the right thing to do. And it's something I really need to do Dean." Sam replies, a slight tremor in his voice as he admits this is something he desperately needs.

"It's irrational, that's what it is." Dean replies, choosing to ignore the small pain in his brother's voice. He knows this is important to his brother, but it's not for him. He doesn't want or need this. It's not the right time. It's too much.

"Look, man, you really don't have to come with me. I don't really...I mean, we haven't..." Sam's surprised this hasn't been an issue before now. Because besides Sam's solo trips into town while at Bobby's and the incident with Gordon. The two haven't really been separate from each that much since the hospital...since the day after their father died. He doesn't really want to suggest that Dean didn't have to come with him...because really, where would Dean go? And could Sam do this alone?

"Why don't we swing by the Roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down." Dean says after he realizes Sam's not going to finish he's sentence. Because he knows what's he's brother's getting at, and the truth of the matter is...Dean doesn't really want to leave his brother at the moment either. Even thought he doesn't talk. Being complete alone, well, that might just kill him.

"Fine. Then go. But drop me off first, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow." Sam replies, daring his brother. He knows it's not going to happens. Knows that no matter how much Dean bitches, they are both going to end up at their mother's grave.

"Right." Dean replies as he rolls his eyes. "Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk 'til you show up? No, thanks."

Sam wants to laugh, because it's true and kind of funny. And he would, if he could erase the last year's worth of drama and pain. But since he can't, he just relaxes in his seat and waits.

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A couple hours later, Sam finds himself kneels by his mother's headstone. He's not really surprised his brother still refused to go near it. And Sam's pretty sure it's not all because Dean thinks it's stupid. Sam's pretty sure it has to do with their pain being different, and them both dealing with lose differently. Being this close to something that represents mom, whether or not Dean believe in the representation, probably still stings.

Sam tries to focus on his own thoughts in this moment, pushing his stress over his brother aside. He digs up a small patch of grass and takes out his father's military dog takes.

"I think, uh...I think Dad would've wanted you to have these." Sam says, as he buries them and covers them with grass. He feels tears stinging his eyes, but he really doesn't want to cry. Not here. Not now. "I love you, Mom."

Sam stays by their mom's grave, needed to pull himself together before he finds his brother. Wondering what he's brother's doing to distract himself.

Dean is in another part of the cemetery, looking around sadly. He can still see his brother, and even with the distance between them, he can tell his brother's having a hard time. But Dean can't be there for him, not for this. It's too much. He can't push everything aside right now, especially not after last night.

So Dean continues to walk aimless around the cemetery, trying to ignore the pain in his chest, thinking about their mom. He stops soon, his sadness quickly fading, being replaced by confusion.

Dean's looking at a tree in the middle of the ground, which is completely dead. He walks closer, going to examine it, when he notices the grass around it is also dead. It forms a perfect circle. Dean crouches down at the tomb stone that lays in the circle to read Angela's name. Flowers decorate the grave, they too, are dead.

After talking to the groundskeeper, Dean finds his brother. Dean has a piece of paper, and is suddenly in a lighter mood. No longer needing to push away his pain, because he's pretty sure he just found a hunt.

"Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college. Her funeral was three days ago." Dean informs his brother. Ignoring the redness in Sam's eyes, focusing on the information he needs to tell his brother.

"And?" Sam asks, completely confused. He thought their reunion would be filled with awkward small-talk, and ignoring where they were for the shake of the other. But he wasn't expecting this at all.

"'And?' You saw her grave, everything dead around it in a perfect circle. You don't think that's a little weird?" Dean ask.

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little aggro with the pesticide." Sam replies, really hoping his brother doesn't think they found a hunt. Because, really, Sam's not sure he can take that right now. They should just get out of here, maybe head back to Bobby's for a bit. Anything.

"No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it." Dean continues, hoping his brother will just let him have this. Dean came along for Sam's shake, let his brother do this. Why can't his brother do the same for him?

"Okay, so, what are you thinking?" Sam asks, not sure what else to do. He doesn't want his brother to pursue this too hard, but can he really be so cruel as to deny him this.

"I don't know. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean doesn't really know what he thinks, but this...what he found, it's not natural.

"Un...?" Sam can't even finish the sentence, feeling his frustration pushing at him. He wants to say that this is ridiculous. But he also doesn't want to hurt his brother. He can never tell how his brother's going to be after an emotionally day like yesterday. There have been too many variations in the past.

"What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the farm outside Cedar Rapids?" Dean asks, daring his brother to deny him. Just waiting for everything to go to hell, and he's feeling an anger beginning to rise in him. And not only because of what's happening in this moment, but because of everything.

"Yeah, but..." Sam hates this, and he can't get his sentence out before he's brother is talking over him again.

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or that Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." Dean continues. And despite how skeptical Sam looks, he still nods in agreement. So Dean continues. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

Dean feels pissed off at everything as they reach the car. It's Sam's fault that they're here. It's his fault that Dean is suddenly reminded of everything he's lost. Everything he didn't get to do with his mom. All the years he had to take care of his family because she was no longer around. As well as the more recent pain of losing their father, and everything that was attached to that. He tried not to dwell on everything else, but because of their conversation last night, and Dean's dream. Dean feels like he's drowning in everything, and since he can't release it the way he's used to. It's only fueling his rage. He needs this hunt. He needs this to be a hunt.

They now find themselves at the car. Sam not sure how to handle this. He wants to believe that this is a hunt. But part of him knows there is a good possibility Dean is fabricating all this to just ignore where they are, and what they're dealing with.

"It's just...stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?" Sam says, only voices part of his doubts. Knowing the other half would only start a very heated argument.

"So?" Dean snaps, almost daring his brother to go against him on this.

"So, are you sure this is about a hunt, not about something else?" Sam finally asks, decided that maybe having this conversation wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"What else would it be about?" Dean asks, even though he's pretty sure he knows what he's brother is hinting at. After he punched his brother, Sam hasn't really brought up their father. And he can't really blame him. That always seems to bring anger, where as everything else always leads to panic and tears.

Sam sighs before he just shakes his head. "You know, just forget it."

"You can believe what you want, Sam. But I let you drag my ass out here, the least we can do is check this out." Dean says, still pissed off. Really, he should want to leave. But all this..."dealing with grief" shit behind them, and find something else to hunt.

"Yeah. Fine."

"The girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school." Dean informs Sam as he gets in the car.

The drive to Angela's dad is silent. But the talk with Angela's dad is a little frightening, from Sam's perspective anyways. The last two hunts have been an excuse to ignore all the pain that both brother's are going through. But Sam gets a sick feeling that this one is different. That this one is a way for Dean to vent his anger over the lose they both have dealt with throughout their lives. And if that is the case, and if it's anything like Dean venting his frustrating against the trunk of the Impala at Bobby's...Sam can only imagine how insane this is going to get. And he only hopes he can be there for his brother, and stop his from hurting himself, or anyone else that gets in the way.

Now they find themselves in a motel room. Sam still convinced there isn't anything here. While Dean seems to still be sticking to the possibility that he's found a hunt.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet." Dean says as he pacing the room, still frustrated.

"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing." Sam replies, hating the situation he's in. Why did this have to happen, now of all times?

"Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground." Dean insists.

"There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly "vengeful spirit" material. You heard her father." Sam replies, trying to get his brother to see logic.

"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?" Dean snaps.

"You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore." Sam replies, feeling his own frustration and anger seeping through. He doesn't want to be mad at his brother, it's his own fault that they're here anyways. It's his fault that they went to that cemetery.

"So what, Sam? We just bail. Without even figuring out what's going on?" Dean asks, really getting frustrated with his brother. If this was years ago, before Sam left for college, he'd storm off and head to a bar. Get drunk...and well...that's not happening now.

"I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far." Sam continues, not sure if this is exactly wise. This isn't giving his brother space. This isn't letting Dean come to him, and start the conversion. This is pushing. But Sam hopes that since it's not about he bigger, more painful...oh, who is he kidding, this is just stupid.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, really hoping his brother isn't going to start a conversation that is going to either have him to talk about something he can't, or force he to leave this room...by himself.

"This is about Mom's grave." Sam answers, and is surprised when Dean just scoffs. Sure, they rarely talk about mom, even when they were in Lawrence, and the shit-storm that created. And even if this isn't the right time. Sam really can't ignore this. He can't ignore the shared grief. He can ignore everything else, barely. But he can't ignore this...not their mom, and not their dad.

"That's got nothing to do with it." Dean warns, feeling his anger only growing. Why did Sam have to ruin everything?

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look...maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad." Sam pauses for a moment, when Dean's glares at him. Clearly daring his brother to continue. "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead. If it'll make you feel better."

"I don't need this crap." Dean replies, needing to get away. So he makes he way towards the door.

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asks, a little scared. He's brother hasn't gone out by himself in a long while. Even during their last hunt...he was with Gordon. So...Sam doesn't want Dean to leave.

"I'm gonna go get a drink. Alone." Dean snaps, as he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Sam just collapses onto the bed, completely shocked. They never talked about it, obviously. But Sam got the impression that the bar scene, drinking, flirting, and just girls in general held a different appeal to Dean now, ever since getting Sam at Stanford. Sam didn't know it back then, but it makes sense. Dean hasn't told him what happened, and at the moment, Sam doesn't need to know the details to have a good idea what fears that event must of placed onto his brother.

This makes Sam sick, knowing that he forced his brother out that door. But Sam has a pretty good idea that Dean isn't going to hit the bars, like he claimed. He hopes he doesn't...._fuck!_ Sam looks around the room, knowing for a fact that he didn't bring all the weapons inside. He didn't think he needed to. He didn't think his brother would leave him like this. _Shit._

Sam can now only hope and pray that this conversation doesn't add new wounds...psychical wounds, to his brother's body. Sam doesn't think he could live with that.

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Dean came home the next morning, clearly he wasn't out drinking. He was out working the hunt. This should makes Sam feel better but it doesn't. And they go back to ignoring the obvious.

After talking to Angela's roommate, Lindsay, and her friend Neil. Dean convinces Sam that they need to go burn Angela's remains, which is just crazy. Even for them.

That's when the case, now that Sam can admit that they're on one, takes an unexpected turn. They are both standing in Angela's grave, starring at her empty coffin. That's really not what Sam expected. And this is when everything start spinning out of control.

The next day they find themselves back at Angela's father's house, and Sam can tell that Dean's pissed. Sam is really started to worry, but Dean hasn't given Sam any opportunity to talk about it since a couple nights ago, and well that conversation only ended with Dean storming off.

For Dean, he was pissed, and surprisingly the last conversation he had with his brother didn't result in his literally tearing himself apart, no matter how tempted he was. He just stayed on this case. And now with the new information, he was seriously ready to kick someone's ass. Because this...this hunt, it's all just wrong.

"Dean, take it easy, okay?" Sam warns, really not wanting Dr. Mason to get the blunt end of Dean's wrath, well...unless of course he's guilting. But Sam has a feeling he's not.

Dean ignores his brother and knocks on the door again, and soon Dr. Mason answers. He's clearly surprised to see the boys again.

"You're Angie's friends, right?" He asks, clearly he's forgotten their names already.

"Dr. Mason..." Sam tries, he wants to handle this light, but obviously his brother has differently plans.

"We need to talk." Dean says, cutting off his brother.

"Well, then, come in." Dr. Mason replies, stepping back, giving the boys room to enter his home.

"Thanks." Sam says, trying to keep everything calm, but having a bad feeling in his gut that everything is about to spin out of control.

As they enter Dr. Mason's study, Dean doesn't waste any time.

"You teach Ancient Greek? Tell me. What are these?" Dean asks, as he pulls out of piece of paper that shows the symbols they found in Angela's coffin. He hands them over to Dr. Mason.

"I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angie." Dr. Mason is clearly confused, and is still dealing with his grief. Every time he mentions his daughter's name, Sam can see and hear the pain, which his brother is obviously ignoring.

"It does. Please, just humor me." Dean replies, coldly. Ignoring his brother's stare.

Dr. Mason finally looks at the symbols drawn on the paper in his hand. "They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual."

Dean nods, because well...he already knew that. Both brother's did. "Used for necromancy, right?"

"That's right." Dr. Mason replies, looking up from the paper. Still obviously confused.

"See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves. Apparently, they use rituals like this when communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life...full-on zombie action." Dean says, anger and frustration clearly in his voice. Sam wants to cut in, wants to calm his brother down, but he knows that would only fuel the fire.

"Yeah. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?" Dr. Mason asks.

Dean snatches the paper back, pissed. "I think you know."

"Dean." Sam warns, not sure what else to say.

"Look, I get it, okay? There are people who I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right?" Dean demands, not holding back. Wanting to tear this man apart.

"Dean!" Sam shouts, a little louder. This isn't how it's supposed to be. Sam's not supposed to get insight into his brother's pain like this. Not through this misdirected anger. Because Sam knows for a fact that Dr. Mason is innocent in all this.

"What are you talking about?" Dr. Mason asks, both too occupied in each other to listen to Sam.

"What's dead should stay dead!" Dean grinds out, using everything he has to refrain from punching the older man.

"What?" Dr. Mason replies, voice raising a little as well.

"Stop it!" Sam shouts, trying desperate to get someone's attention. Especially his brother's.

"What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them. I mean, come on, haven't you seen Pet Sematary?" Dean says, not holding anything back. This wasn't exactly the hunt he was expecting. Because again, he finds the strings attached, and the drama.

"You're insane." Dr. Mason replies, softly.

"Where is she?" Dean demands.

Dr. Mason walks away from Dean, trying to get away, as he picks up his phone. "Get out of my house."

"I know you're hiding her somewhere. Where is she?" Dean demands, stronger then the first time.

"Dean, stop, that's enough. Dean, look!" Sam grabs Dean by the arm, as he point to the plants in the living room. "Beautiful, living plants."

Sam turns to Dr. Mason, trying to remain in control of the situation. "We're leaving."

"I'm calling the police." Dr. Mason replies, as he starts dialing.

"Sir, we're sorry. We won't bother you again." Sam offers, as he follows Dean out of the house.

Outside, Dean is clearly trying to avoid the conversation he knows is coming, as he quickly walks away from the house. But Sam keeps up with him, and doesn't waste any time.

"What the hells' the matter with you, Dean?" Sam asks, anger in his voice. He doesn't want to be angry with his brother. He doesn't want to push. But he's freaking out.

"Back off." Dean warns, he really doesn't want to hit his brother again.

"That man is innocent! He didn't deserve that!" Sam continues, voice raising. He needs to brother to stop this, and just talk to him. He wasn't sure what to expect after their talk about the cutting, but now Sam wished he got a different version of his brother. Because this angry one, it's not working for him.

"Okay, so, she's not here. Maybe he's keeping her somewhere else." Dean replies, not wanting to admit that he accused the wrong man.

"Stop it! That's enough, okay? Enough!" Sam tries to get Dean to stop walking, but it's hard. Dean is clearly determined to get away.

"Sam, I know what I'm doing." Dean snaps, as he continues down the sidewalk.

"No, you don't! At all." Dean just laughs, and Sam hates this. He hates that he's pushing like this, but he doesn't know what else to do in this situation. "Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap outta me."

"You're being overdramatic, Sam." Dean replies, hoping they can avoid the obvious. He just need a little bit more of a recovery time. It's only been a couple days. He doesn't want to think about this. He doesn't want to think about their father, and his death, and what it all meant. Last time he really let it all sink in, he destroyed his Impala.

"You're lucky this turned out to be a real case, 'cause if it wasn't, you would've just found something else to kill!" Sam snaps.

"What?" Dean asks, finally stopping to face his brother.

"You're on edge, you're erratic. Except for when you're hunting, 'cause then you're downright scary. You're tail-spinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it, and you won't let me help you!" Sam continues, his voice still a little too loud, but he's stressing out.

"Fuck you Sam! What was it I did only a couple nights ago. I fucking talked. I don't need this shit. I can take care of myself, thanks." Dean replies, as he continues to walk, a combination of anger and sarcasm filling his voice.

"No, you can't! And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to. This isn't even about that. This is about Dad, and about Mom. Because what happened in there, that had nothing to do with the rest of your issues. You don't have to handles this on your own, Dean, no one can. I fucking hate this. I hate that I promise to give you space one day, and then this fucking happens. I can't do this much longer Dean." Sam shouts, letting all his anger and frustration fall out into the open.

Dean knew he should be relieved that this argument had nothing to do with the things that were still too painful for Dean to look at, even on his own. But their father, that was still something big, and he's ignored if ever since leaving Gordon behind and having his nightmare give him new fears and hatred.

"Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time, I swear." Dean says, holding onto his own anger. He still doesn't want to talk about Dad. There's too much there. Things he can't tell Sam, because they would destroy his brother. But Dean doesn't even want to talk about the death. Because, that's too painful for him.

"Stop, please, Dean..." Sam grabs onto Dean's arm, forcing him to stop walking. "It's killing you. Please. We've already lost Dad. We've lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. And now I'm gonna lose you, too?"

Sam knows his brother knows he's not only talking about their father, and the lose. Because they both know that the grief over their father's death isn't the only thing trying to take Dean away from his brother.

After a long pause, tears sting Sam's eyes. And Dean feeling like shit because he's put them there. Dean finally speaks.

"We better get out of here before the cops come." Dean says, and Sam instantly frown. But Dean's right, the cops are coming, and he really doesn't want to have a conversation where he's sobbing when the police show up. That would just be embarrassing.

"I hear you, okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass, and I'm sorry. But right now we've got a friggin' zombie running around, and we need to figure out how to kill it." Dean continues, and Sam just scoffs. Probably not too happy that Dean is continue to push everything else aside for the sake of the hunt. "Right?"

"Our lives are weird, man." Sam finally says, not sure what else he could possibly say in this moment.

"You're telling me. Come on." They walk away from the house, needed to get to the car or back to the motel before they police arrive.

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The hunt had it's ups and downs, but it was finally over. Dean got to do some hunting, get some anger and stress out. And Sam didn't push anymore. They saved Lindsey, but didn't save everyone. But at least now Angela was back to being dead, like she should have stayed after the crash.

They are still at the cemetery when the sun start rising into the sky the next morning. Angela's grave covered back with dirt.

"Rest in peace." Sam says as they finish.

"Yeah, for good this time, okay?" Dean concludes as they both start walking towards the car.

"You know, the whole fake ritual thing? Luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp." Sam says, attempting to get them back into a normal grove. He'll ignore what happened here during the hunt. He'll go back to doing when ever seems to tell him to do. Give his brother space, even if it kills him...or he's calling Bobby ever other night.

"Thanks." Dean replies, kind of surprised at the topic chose of his brother, he thought the drama would be back.

"But did we have to use me as bait?" Sam asks, rubbing his arm. His wrist hurts like a bitch from when he was tackled to the ground. He really hopes it's not broken.

"I figured you were more her type. She had pretty crappy taste in guys." Dean says with a smile, settling back into his old self, which recently has just been a facade. It still is now, but it's still nice, even if it's fake.

"I think she broke my hand." Sam replies, a little upset. But Dean chuckles, which really should make Sam feel better. But it doesn't.

"You're just too fragile. We'll get it look at later." Dean says with a smirk as they reach the car.

Dean turns to look back at their mother's headstone, and feels his hands already begin to shake. Feeling the grief he felt back in Lawrence pushing at his chest.

"You wanna stay for a while?" Sam asks, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.

Dean takes a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from the headstone. He looks back at his brother, sadly.

"No." Dean says as he starts putting their stuff into the trunk of the car.

Sam doesn't know what to say, the pain radiating from his brother is killing Sam. But he won't push. He can't fight with his brother. So they both silently get into the car.

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The car ride is uncomfortably silent, neither sure where they're driving to. They're just getting away from that town.

Dean can't stop thinking, and he wants to tell himself to shut the hell up. He can't do this. He can't. It's all too much. But soon he finds himself pulling onto the side of the road. It should be funny, because he always bitches about their road-side little heart-to-hearts. But he needs to get this out in the open, and off his chest. This is the one thing that he can do. The one thing he can talk about, because they are both dealing with it. It's completely unfair to shut Sam out when Sam's dealing with the grief of losing their father too. It might not be the same pain, but still.

Sam's confused as the car pulls off the road, and comes to a stop. Sam looks over at his brother, and sees the pain written over his face, before his brother gets out of the car. Sam's not sure what this could be about. He wants to believe his brother is about to talk to him, because he wants to. But he gets the impression it will only be because his brother feels bad about what happened. Because Sam's not stupid. He knows the last time they talked, when Dean finally opened up, it was because Dean felt bad about punching him. Sam hopes it's not the main reason, but he can't deny that it's there.

So Sam follows Dean out of the car, and watches as his brother sits on the hood.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asks, starting to get worried. Their last conversation, well, it didn't end well. And here, there's no washroom or room...well, nothing for his brother to lock himself away from to avoid his brother if this conversation breaks him. Sam's not sure if Dean thought about that, and Sam's not going to bring it up. Because maybe this is something they both need. To see each other at their worst.

"I'm sorry." Dean replies sadly. He's not really sure what he's doing. He hates this feeling, why does he feel the need to have this conversation. He doesn't really think it will help, but he feels like an asshole after the hunt. He feels he owes his brother this.

"For what?" Sam asks, still confused.

"The way I've been acting." Dean confesses. And it's not a lie, now that the hunt is over, he does feel back for how he acted. Sam finally sits down next to him, and Dean's not sure how to get this conversation rolling.

"And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad, too. It's my fault he's gone." Dean continues, his voice breaking slightly. He instantly regrets this. But he needs to get this out. He just hopes his brother doesn't make this harder on him.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, hating the pain he instantly feels in his chest.

"I know you've been thinking it, so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. And it was a miracle. Then, five minutes later, Dad's dead and the Colt's gone." Dean continues, even though he just wants to shut up. Because well, he doesn't really know if his brother has been thinking this, because he...well, Dean has no idea.

"Dean..." Sam tries, but Dean cuts him off. Sam shouldn't be surprised. But this isn't what he thought they'd be talking about. Because, sure, he thinks about their father a lot. But the hospital hasn't crossed his mind in awhile. What is his brother talking about?

"You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know." Dean says, feeling tears sting his eyes. This should help, shouldn't it? Get this weight off his chest, so that he can move onto...well, yet another weight.

"We don't know that. Not for sure." Sam says, hating this. He didn't want Dean blaming himself for this, because no matter what happened, Sam knows for a fact that their father's death is not his brother's fault. So why does Dean have to add this to his conscience? It's not fair.

"Sam...you and Dad...you're the most important people in my life. And now...I never should have come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now, look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead." Dean voice breaks, and he pauses. He really doesn't want to cry, but as his bottom lip quivers slightly, Dean wants to curse himself, because he's pretty he's going to cry.

"You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Dean says, hating how this feels. Why is this happening? Why can't they just be happy?

Sam feels tears in his own eyes, and he nods. He did want his brother to let him know how he felt about their father's death. But Sam wasn't expecting this. He doesn't know what to say.

"So, tell me...what could you possibly say to make that all right?" Dean asks, finally looking at his brother as tears stream down his face.

Sam doesn't know what to say, and looks away from his brother. Trying to wrap his head around everything. Dean quickly looks away as well, trying to stop the tears. They both just sit there in silence.

Sam hates this, he needs to say something. He can't leave it like this. This will ruin everything.

"Dean..." Sam finally says, he's voice breaking as tears quickly run down his face.

Dean jumps next to him, surprised by the voice next to him. He looks over to see his brother crying. _ Damn it._ This isn't what Dean wanted.

"Don't Sam." Dean pleads, not wanting to hear whatever his brother has to say. So he gets off the hood of the car, wiping his face.

"Dean, you're right. I don't know what to say to make it all right." Sam says, as tears continue down his face.

Dean stops, and turns to face his brother. Because that's not what he expected his brother to say.

"I can't, but not for the reasons you think. I don't know what to say, because I don't understand how you can think Dad's death is your fault. You were in a friggin' coma. The doctors didn't think you'd wake up. So how is whatever happened your fault? You didn't kill him Dean. Please." Sam slowly gets off the hood. He doesn't know what else to say. He's completely shocked at this new turn of events. He never thought he's brother would feel so responsible.

"It should have been me, Sammy." More tears run down his face, and Dean just wants to run away. Why did he do this to himself. He feels the panic rising, and he can't breath.

"Dean, no, it shouldn't have. I miss him, I miss Dad like crazy. But I don't think I'd be able to handle losing you. I can't lose you too Dean. Please." Sam gets closer to Dean, his own tears continuing quickly down his face.

Sam soon can tell that Dean's breathing is coming out quick and short.

"Dean, please, just deep breath. You're okay. Everything is fine. We don't have to talk about this anymore, okay? Just calm down. Come here." Sam approaches his brother some more, wanting to pull him into a comforting hug. Sure the Winchester really don't do this sort of thing, but looks like he could use some comforting.

Sam, however, isn't expecting what happens next. As Sam places a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean jerks away violently. Quickly taking a couple steps away from his brother.

"Don't touch me." Dean spits out, new fears pushing at him. He can't breath. He needs his pills.

"Dean? It's okay. Everything is okay. Just breath, okay. Nothing's going to happen to you. Okay? It's just a hug." Sam approaches his brother again, but Dean takes the same amount of step backwards.

"Please don't touch me." Dean pleads, his voice no longer strong but soft and weak.

Sam is shocked and stays in place. He really didn't think this would happen. But clearly this is not longer about their father. At least not completely.

"Dean...please, what's happening?" Sam asks, desperately. He doesn't know what to do.

Dean collapses onto the ground, desperate for air. He leans against the from of the car as images assault his mind. He doesn't want to see this...any of it.

"Shit." Sam curses at the sight in front of him. His brother continues to struggle for air, as tears continue down his face. He's not sure what he's seeing, but his brother clearly isn't here with him at the moment.

Sam slowly kneels in front of his brother. He needs to help him, get it out of his head.

"Dean, listen to me! Stop! You're safe. No ones here with us. No ones going to hurt you. You're safe. Please. Just breath. What am I supposed to do Dean? Please." Sam rants, unable to stop his own tears as they continue down his face.

"Please...make it stop." Dean pleads. Trying desperate to stay here, in the present, with his brother.

"I don't know how, Dean. Talk to me." Sam pleads. He's sure this is about...the rape. He hates that it's still hurting his brother this badly. But at the same time, Sam's sure that Dean's never really tried to deal with it before.

"I can't Sammy, please, I can't. I need..." Dean sucks in a breath, trying to breath on his own. He can't ask his brother to get his pills. He can't have this conversation. There's only so much he can put onto his brother before he hates him, if he doesn't already.

"What Dean? What do you need?" Sam asks, needing to help his brother.

"Please don't hate me." Dean pleads, finally looks up at his brother. The imagines are gone, forced behind his walls. But the panic still remains.

"Dean...I could never hate you. Please, what do you need?" Sam asks, his tears slowing down.

"Pills...please." Dean gasps, still unable to get air into his lunges.

"Okay. Just...I'll be right back." Sam quickly gets up and rushes to the trunk as he wipes the tears from his eyes. He quickly searches through Dean's back to find the bottle of pills. He knew his brother was taking them, well, at least while at Bobby's. Why would Dean keep this from him. He can only assume that Dean thinks this is another weakness.

Sam quickly rushes back to his brother, and opens the pill bottle. He takes two out and passes them to his brother. Dean reaches out a shaky hand and takes the pills, swallowing them without water.

"I'm sorry." Dean finally says once the pills help him start to breath again, but he's unable to stop the tears. He hates this.

"It's okay. I guess those pills really help, huh?" Sam asks.

"I'm sorry." Dean repeats, waiting. Waiting for his brother to finally be pissed.

"Why? Because you're taking them? That's what they are for Dean, to help. You don't have to be sorry for that." Sam reasures him.

"I shouldn't need them." Dean replies, wiping at his face, but the tears won't stop. "What's wrong with me?"

"Dean....nothing's wrong with you. What happened to you...it's going to...I don't know how you've dealt with it before. We'll I guess that's not entirely true. But...you can't keep doing this. I think what happened right now is proof that this isn't working." Sam's not sure if there is anything he could say to make his brother actually talk about it.

"I know. But I can't Sam. I can't talk about it. Please, don't make me talk about it." Dean pleads, feeling sobs pressing against him. He doesn't want to break down. Not here, not in front of his brother.

"I know, but someday...it might help." Sam replies softly, putting a hand on his brother's knee. Giving it a light, comforting squeeze.

"Thanks Sam." Dean says, still unable to pull himself together as the shaking gets harder.

"Come on, let's get you back in the car. I'm driving. You clearly need some rest." Sam goes to get up, but stops as his brother starts shaking his head like crazy.

"No, I can't, I don't want to." Dean pleads. He doesn't want to sleep. He can't.

"Damn it." Sam curses, hating that his brother is in so much pain.

"Look, why don't you stretch out in the backseat. I'll drive us up to Bobby's. I think we need some rest. And don't argue okay? You need sleep. I know it sucks. The nightmares after Jess...they nearly killed me. But you need to sleep. I'll wake you up if I think I need to, alright?" Sam reassures his brother.

"No, I can't. Please." Dean says as he continues to struggle to suppress his sobs.

"You need to, okay. Come on, maybe you won't dream a thing, okay." Sam says, hoping his brother could get a dreamless night.

"I doubt it." Dean says softly, not sure what else to say.

"Come on." Sam gets up, and helps his brother to his feet. He pulls his brother into a hug once they are both on their feet. His brother stiffens but Sam doesn't let go. But after a moment, Sam lets go, not wanting to makes his brother feel worse.

"Okay, come one." Sam helps his brother into the back seat, and closes the door, taking a deep breath. The pause is instantly broken when he hears he's brother start to cry. Sam feels new tears stinging his eyes, but he refuses to make this worse for his brother.

Sam gets into the drivers seat of the car, and starts the ignition. He doesn't want to ignore his brother's sobs. He looks through the rear view mirror to look at his brother. Dean is stretched out in the back seat, his arms tightly wrapped around himself. Soon, Dean pulls his knees up, curling himself up between the backseat and the back of the passenger seat. Tears are streaming down his face, and he's shaking.

"Try to get some rest, okay? We'll be at Bobby's in a couple hours."

The drive is uncomfortable for the first hour as Dean pretty much cries himself to sleep. Sam feeling like an ass because he just drove. But once Sam knows he's brother is sleeping, Sam pulls out his phone from his pocket and dials.

After a couple rings Bobby picks up. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me again, Sam." Sam answers, hating that he's calling Bobby again so soon.

"Sam? How are you? Everything all right?" Bobby asks.

"No, nothing's all right." Sam replies, feeling more tears stinging his eyes. He can't breakdown. Can't risk it. He'd need to stop the car. And what if his brother wakes up?

"What happened?" Bobby asks.

"We went to our mother's grave, and ended up finding a hunt. Zombie, relatively straight forward, but it was hard. Dean's um...we just need a break, okay? He's asleep in the backseat right now. We just need...a break." Sam says, wanting to get the conversation over with. He just needs to ask if it's okay to stop by.

"I already told you Sam, you're welcome at anytime." Bobby replies.

"You're not busy? Not in the middle of your own hunt or something?" Sam asks.

"It's fine Sam, how far are you?" Bobby asks.

"We'll be there in a couple hours. Probably sometime before supper. But, uh...you don't have to make anything, that's not what I meant. Um...I just...we'll see you in a couple hours okay?" Sam asks, hating how uncomfortable he feels right now.

"Okay." Bobby says, simply.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam replies before hanging up.

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A couple hours later, Sam pulls up to Bobby's house. Dean's still asleep, and Sam hopes that he isn't just stuck in a silent nightmare.

Sam gets out of the car, and takes their bags out of the trunk and goes to Bobby's front door. Bobby quickly opens the door, and smiles sadly.

"Hey Bobby." Sam says, not sure what else to do.

"I'll take your bag Sam. Why don't you get your brother. Okay?" Bobby doesn't wait for an answer. He just picks up the bags in front of Sam, and re-enters the house.

Sam slowly walks back to the car and opens the door leading to the back seat. Sam gently places a hand on Dean's shoulder and gives it a small shake. Dean instantly bolts up.

"Hey, it's okay, we're at Bobby." Sam says softly.

"Oh." Dean instantly relaxes back against the seat.

"You okay?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, I uh, I actually slept the whole way. Thanks Sam." Dean replies, avoiding his brother's eyes. He's sure he looks like crap. He doesn't want Bobby to see him like this. But what other choice does he have"

"Okay, we'll, why don't we get inside. Maybe have some food, and maybe you'll be lucky again tonight and be able to get some rest." Sam smiles sadly at his brother.

"Yeah, okay." Dean says as he gets out of the car.

They enter Bobby's and all eat dinner together. It's awkward, but nobody says anything that would make it worse.

Soon both boys are in bed as Bobby does the dishes. He's glad the boys are back, but at the same time, he wishes it was at a better time. Hoping he can help at least Sam over the next couple days, or maybe Sam can go see Doctor Kane again. Both boys looked terrible at the diner table earlier. And Bobby's sure that both boys cried recently, especially Dean. His face blotches, and his eyes red and puffy. But he didn't say a word, knowing Sam would hate it if he made things worst for Dean. And for once, Bobby doesn't feel like pushing any tough love onto the boy. Because whatever Dean went through, Bobby can tell it must have been big. Something that Dean is clearly still struggling with. He just prays that he'll soon lean on his brother, and not let the memories destroy him.

Bobby then sits down at the kitchen table, and a cup of coffee. It's still fairly early, and he's not tired. Hoping that the brother's can get past everything that's eating them both alive.

Upstairs, both brother's pray for a dreamless and peaceful sleep. Both of them collapsing into their own guest room. Neither of them having the strength to do anything else. And Sam hopes that tomorrow won't bring out yet another random version of his brother, because Dean is too ashamed of what happened.

**TBC**

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**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated.

So sorry for the wait. More to come, soon, I hope. Thanks.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

**Review Response**:

_M_:

Glad you liked the chapter. I love Bobby, so I like working him into the story any time that I can. He's definitely going to have some time with Dean during this chapter, but not sure how much comforting he'll be doing. Dean might still be a little resistant to help.

_Hogaboom_:

Thanks again for the review. Glad your still liking it. And I definitely plan on continuing and finishing this story.

_M_:

Very cool that you re-read the chapter to satisfy your Dean-angst craving. Hope this new chapter is good for you too. Sorry for the delay.

Thanks to _rholou_ for your kind reviews.

So sorry for the long wait, I wanted to get this out sooner but had a hard time getting in the zone. Because of the length, this chapter was split into a few parts. Hope the length makes up for the long wait.

Again, I self-edited. All mistakes are my own.

Side Note - I thought I'd break down the timeline a little, since I didn't really go through that throughout the story. The timeline will be briefly mentioned throughout this chapter. And I know I don't really follow when the episodes where aired and such. But for the sake of this story, here's the timeline:

October - Dean finished his solo gig in New Orleans, and was attacked.

November 2nd - Jessica was killed, Sam hit the road permanently with Dean.

May (mid month of the following year) - "Faith." Over six months since Dean's attack.

December - "Dead Man's Blood" John decides to stay with the boys

January (mid month of the following year) "Devil's Trap."

This chapter is set in February, mid to late of the month. I know major dates, such as the year anniversary of Jessica's death, Mary's death, Christmas and New Year where passed over in previous chapters without mention. It should make sense, and Sam will do some back tracking, explaining why those days didn't seem important at the time.

Also: I eliminated the roadhouse in this chapter and it's plotlines until later chapters.

Again so sorry for the huge delay. Got slammed at work. Hope to get back into writing, and hope that the length of this chapter makes up for the wait.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 17. Thanks.

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**CHAPTER 17 - SIMON SAID (Part One)**

The next morning, a little after seven, Sam slowly stretched out in his bed. Feeling a pop in his lower bed as his long body stretches out the kinks. He then rolls onto his side, finally opening his eyes to check the time. Sam actually passed out last night, into a dreamless, and peaceful sleep. He's surprised, and still a little sleepy.

Reality slams into him like a ton of bricks when Sam realizes where he is. He lets out an exhausted sigh before he pulls himself up, and sits on the edge of the bed. The lingering question always in the back of his mind, now screaming at him: _What the fuck are you going to do now, Sam._

Sam drags himself to the washroom and hops into the shower. He needs to think. How long are they going to stay at Bobby's this time? He knows Dean's not going to want to stay too long, because this time, the Impala doesn't need fixing. So what's going to keep his brother sane during their stay. And what's going to stop Bobby from confronting his brother this time?

Sam really didn't think they'd be in this situation. This sucks. He needs to get Dean another prescription, but how? He'll have to talk to Doctor Kane again. And he doesn't see that particular conversation going very well...but what other choice does he have? But Sam needs to talk to someone anyways, about everything that happened the last couple days. But the story would be filled with holes and confusion if Sam were to try to unload on Bobby. Or worse, he'd figure everything out and Dean wouldn't handle that too well.

So Sam definitely needs to see Doctor Kane again. He really thought those last sessions were going to be the end. Sure they were some-what helpful, but at the same time completely emotionally draining. But what else is there for Sam to do? So after he's done his shower, he needs to find Bobby and then his brother. Tell them what he's doing today.

Dean's day, however, started almost an hour earlier. He had a pretty decent night's sleep, the pills helped. He took two more before going to bed, and they pretty much knocked him out. He's never done that before, but he didn't know what else to do. It was probably just a coincidence that he slept dreamlessly on the way to Bobby's. He can't risk a repeat of the other night. Dean's not sure he can live through it.

But Dean's not stupid, he knows he's doing this all wrong. Not using the pills like he's supposed to. Sure, that might be dangerous and he's quite possible already addicted to them like some retarded junkie. But he'll cross those bridges later. He also knows he's probably supposed to be taking a certain dosage per day, every few hours or something. But that's not going to happen. Hell, he hasn't even read anything besides the name off the label on the bottle. Dean hates the fact that he's reduced to need the pills when panic arises, but he's not going to become someone that needs to take a pill every four hours or something.

Dean forces his thoughts out of his mind as he lets the scolding hot shower water hit his body. His skin feels like its crawling, and it's probably not really because of the drugs. He scrubs over his body furiously. The cuts on his arms mostly healed, and the sight of them makes Dean sick. He hasn't cut himself since the night his brother find out, but the need to has only been growing every day since. Dean's not sure how much longer he can do this, for the sake of his brother. Because he sure isn't doing this for himself.

Dean's needs to get his head on straight, and he knows that. He's been messing up too much lately, and it's only a matter of time before Sam stops being nice to him, and forces a conversation onto him. Forces him to look at things that Dean still can't look at just yet.

Dean just shakes his head, and looks down at himself. His skin is red from the heat. He knows his brother was still in bed when he got up, but he kind of lost track of time in the shower. He also has no idea about Bobby. So Dean turns off the hot water entirely and forces himself to stay on the water as it instantly turns ice cold. He does not move, and doesn't even think about anything at all until his skin returns to a normal color. That's when he finally allows himself to get out of the shower.

Avoiding thinking about anything that would make this difficult, Dean gets dressed. He ignores the pills in his bag, realizes that unless his brother gets him more, he's going to run out very soon. And then what? He also realizes that his brother is still hiding anything sharp from him. Making sure there is nothing in his bag, at least, he must have before waking him up the other day when he passed out in the back seat of the Impala. He hasn't really thought about it before today, because right now, he really wants to...well, go back to what works.

But it really shouldn't surprise him that there is absolutely nothing sharp in his bag, and that's probably a good thing. He knows how much it would hurt his brother if he found out he cut himself again. So what is he going to do now? How long can he survive all this?

Dean slowly makes his way downstairs, and enters the kitchen fully intending to get some coffee into his system. He freezes when he sees that Bobby is already at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, and a newspaper spread out in front of him.

"Morning." Bobby says without looking up from his paper. He doesn't need to look up to know who's up first, and who's standing in the doorway.

"Uh...good morning." Dean replies, instantly uncomfortable. He's barely talked to Bobby since his father passed away, except for the occasional fight.

"Coffee?" Bobby asks, finally looking up from the table. There are so many things he wants to say to Dean, but he waits. He knows how much Sam wants him to be careful around his brother, so he's not going to push and risk waking Sam up. He doesn't want to cause Sam any more pain at the moment.

"Um...sure, that's...ya, coffee would be great." Dean hates that he feels so uncomfortable around Bobby now. But he quickly sits down at the table as Bobby pours him a cup of coffee.

The kitchen is completely silent as Bobby pours Dean a cup of coffee and sits back down at the table. He slides the cup across the table, to Dean. Bobby doesn't have to look too hard to read Dean's body language. He can tell Dean is uncomfortable, and avoiding Bobby's stare.

"Thanks." Dean mumbles, not wasting anytime to start drinking the coffee, savoring yet another distracting. Needing the time to think of what he could possibly do during their "down-time" that would help Dean avoid Bobby hassling him.

"So...you already have another hunt lined up, or are you going to finally listen to your brother and take the rest you needed weeks ago?" Bobby asks, a little harsher than he thought seconds prior in his head. He really was going to take everything a little slower, and be a little nicer. He knows there is so much he's still in the dark about. But because he's in the dark, his main focus is on Sam. Sam's not hiding a lot of his pain from Bobby, like Dean.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to Sam about it yet. But I'm guessing he wants to take a bit of a break. Can't say I blame him. Our hunting track record lately haven't been...well, the greatest." Dean replies, surprisingly honest. He has no idea what Bobby really knows, or what Sam told him before they got here. Sam just drove them to Bobby's after his freak-out. And well, Dean can't really blame his brother. He can't imagine how much he probably scared his brother.

"Well, that's something I guess." Bobby replies, really wishing that Dean would just look at him.

"Bobby...uh, what...um, what did he tell you? About why we're here?" Dean asks, tightening his grip on his coffee mug. He really doesn't want to know, but for some reason he needs to know. He can feel the pressure building in his chest, which can only mean that he's nearing panic or a breakdown. And Dean can't afford either right now.

"Well...he called me after your hunt with Gordon Walker, so he told me about some of that. But why you're here now...he just said you two needed a break. I've told him before that you boys are welcome anytime, for as long as you want." Bobby tries to pull himself back, he really doesn't want to push Dean. He can only imagine how hard all this is for the boy.

"Thanks Bobby. I'm sure Sam will appreciate that." Dean responds, not sure what else to say. Because he's not sure yet if he appreciates it. Another set of questioning eyes. He knows Bobby means well, but Dean still can't open up to someone else.

"What about you?" Bobby asks, not missing the opportunity. He would hope that Dean appreciates his hospitality. But Bobby knows that's not the problem here.

"I've wanted to take a look at the Impala a bit more ever since getting it back on the road after the...you know, the crash. So downtime is alright by me. Let's me make sure the car's not going to break down on us or anything. So, um..thanks for this. I think I'm going to go to that...then." Dean takes one last sip of his coffee before getting up off his chair. He really doesn't want to give Bobby the opportunity to nag on him.

Bobby wants to call Dean back, make him stay. But he just lets out a sigh as Dean retreats out of the kitchen. A moment later he hears the front door open and close. Bobby fights the urge to go beat some sense into that boy, not psychical violence of course, just verbally lay it into him. He can't begin to image the trials and pain that either of the boys have gone through, but all he can do is be here and be a friend and someone both boys can lean on for support.

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An hour later, when Sam finally made his way downstairs, Bobby was still in the kitchen. Sam doesn't realize it, but Bobby didn't need to be in the kitchen any longer. He's been up for hours. He's in the kitchen because of the boys, knowing once they're up, it will be one of the first places they'll go.

So Bobby's conversation with Dean didn't exactly go as well as he would have hoped, but he's not really surprised by that. But Bobby's pretty sure Sam will need someone to talk to. Since he still has no idea what caused the boys to take refuge at his place again. It sure isn't because of psychical injuries sustained during their last hunt, even though Sam mentioned he thought he broke his wrist. Bobby suggested Sam take care of it yesterday, knowing he drove all the way to his pace with it sore. But Sam was too tired last night. He'll take care of it today.

Psychical problems are not the reasons the Winchester are back at Bobby's so soon, and he knows it. It has to do with all the pain that isn't visible on the surface. And even though Bobby's sure it's Dean that's struggling with a larger load, all Bobby can do is sit back and help the younger Winchester. The only one that will currently accept the help he is offering.

Bobby gets up to pour another cup of coffee as he hears Sam making his way down the stairs. Bobby is back in his seat by the time Sam enters the kitchen. Bobby lets out a small sigh when he takes in Sam's appearance. Bobby knows Sam took a shower and got some rest, but Sam still looks exhausted. He knows whatever else Sam's dealing with due to his brother, is not just taking its tole on Dean, but also Sam. Bobby can almost literally see the weight on Sam's shoulders. Maybe everything is harder on Sam than Dean, because well...he doesn't seem to be ignoring it all like Dean. But Bobby might worry more for Dean, because the more Dean ignores, the larger the break once he stops running. And Bobby just hopes Dean doesn't continue to shut the world out.

When Sam catches Bobby's stare as he slides into his chair, Sam smiles. They both know it's fake. So Sam's not surprised when Bobby doesn't return his smile, but gives him a concerned look. Sam should be annoyed, but it's Bobby. Just being back at Bobby's makes Sam relax.

"You get any sleep last night?" Bobby asks, so many questions swirling through his mind. Most of which he knows Sam can't answer.

"A bit." Sam replies, his wrist is still throbbing but the pain isn't as bad as it was the other day. He's pretty sure it's broken, which is just perfect. Adds to the luck he's been having. He really should have had it looked at yesterday, but he wasn't really in the right state of mind.

"You going into town today?" Bobby asks, feeling strange drilling the poor boy with so many questions.

"Yeah, I definitely think the wrist is broken. Plus there are some other things I need to do." Sam avoids Bobby's eyes by focusing on his wrist. Even though he's comfortable talking to Bobby about just about anything. What's the big focus on his mind right now, he can't. Can he really explain to Bobby just about Dean's confession about their father, and leave out the rest? He doesn't want to get onto one of his rambles and say too much. He also feels weird not mentioning Doctor Kane, he suddenly feels ashamed.

"Going to see Doctor Kane again?" Bobby asks, as he continues down the list of appropriate questions.

Sam continues to stare at his wrist, lightly massaging it with his other hand. He can't look at Bobby, not without breaking down. He he needs to pull it together. He just shrugs, not sure if he wants to even attempt to speak. Tears sting his eyes, and he wants to curse himself, hating the situation him and Dean are in.

It should be great to have someone to turn to. But having only one person to turn to...Sam hates dumping all his emotional baggage all on Bobby. But what other option is there? Doctor Kane? Sam only needs to see him today to get a new prescription for Dean. Sure, Doctor Kane is nice, and good at his job. But Sam never forgot during those few session that it is a job.

Sam prefers those who aren't pretty much listen for a pay check...sure, maybe Doctor Kane really does care. And those few sessions he had with him really did help. But now, Sam would much prefer to talk to Bobby...or even Dean. But Sam can't unload on Dean, not even to factor in the 'no click-flick moments' or that most of his 'baggage' have to do with his brother. Sam doesn't want Dean to feel pressured in anyway. That's what's important, that's the biggest factor.

Sam is finally snapped out of his thoughts by Bobby's voice. "Sam, it's okay. I understand."

Sam's confused, what does Bobby understand? Sam raises his eyes to meet Bobby's. He feels like crying, but the genuine smiles and concern on Bobby's face makes Sam instantly relax. The tears are still just below the surface, but Bobby has saved Sam a few minutes before total meltdown.

"I know there are things I still don't know about, and that it's up to Dean if and when I'm brought into the loop. So it's not a stab to my ego or anything that you need to see Doctor Kane and just let absolutely everything out. I always tell you I'm here anytime you need me. Okay? But I'm not stupid. And I'm definitely not hurt that you need to see someone that is sworn to secrecy in their job description. And is someone that I'm pretty positive is never going to meet your brother. So don't add this to the list of stressors in you life. I understand boy." Bobby smiles, seeing how Sam visibly relaxes as he speaks.

"Thanks Bobby. I'm going to see if Dean...he's up right?" Sam asks, surprised in himself that he didn't peek into his brother's room before coming down to the kitchen.

"Ya, that brother of yours has been up for...going on close to an hour now. He's out giving his car a tune-up. I think he just needs that car as an excuse to avoid me." Bobby smirks. He should be upset, but he kind of understands.

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam cringes, it's kind of his fault. He drove here after his brother's freak-out. But he really didn't know what else to do.

"It's not your fault Sam. Now, go talk to that damn brother of yours. But I'm guessing he's a little embarrassed about whatever happened yesterday. So feel free to borrow my car. You know where the keys are." Bobby says, not sure what he hopes to happen with Dean. Part of him wants Dean to stay, while part of him wants Dean to go with his brother.

If Dean stays...he doesn't want to push, but he can't stay quiet. Well, minus the few fights, he stayed relatively to himself. He wouldn't mind having another talk while Sam's out. The pain he saw in both boys the other evening, it was too much. He doesn't need the full story, he has only a few theories, none of them good.

But if Dean leaves with Sam, it might be good for him. Stop hiding, and start facing whatever happened to him. Plus, that would guarantee that Bobby himself wouldn't make it worst. He really wants to be wrong about everything, all his theories, all the possibilities running through his head. And Bobby's pretty sure that no matter what Dean does, stays or goes with Sam; Bobby's pretty sure he won't learn anything more. He really wants to be wrong, but the more he sees...the more he picks up on...the more he dreads learning which of his theories are right.

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Outside, Sam slowly makes his way to where he knows Dean will be working on the car. Sam's nervous, besides an awkward dinner with Bobby before heading to bed, both brother's pretty much avoided each other last night. Bobby's probably right, Sam's sure Dean's embarrassed and probably ashamed with what happened yesterday. Sam on the other hand isn't sure what to say to make everything better. There's too much.

Their father's death is one thing, but then Dean's confession that he feels responsible. That nearly killed Sam. He has to admit, what happened back at the hospital, it doesn't make a lot of sense. But Sam's sure of two things; that he's not upset that Dean's still alive, and whatever happened was in no way his brother's fault.

Sam knows dealing with everything concerning their father would be hard and painful, regardless. But the fact there is so much more going on, that is what's making everything so hard. Sam's done a lot of reading, besides what he's learnt from Doctor Kane, about everything his older brother is dealing with. What happened yesterday, it's nothing abnormal. But Sam's sure Dean hates that his breakdown happened in front of his brother.

Sam still feels partly responsible for what happened, he shouldn't have gotten in his brother's personal space. But he wasn't thinking, not outside that moment. He forgot everything Doctor Kane told him, and everything he read. That's what makes everything so hard, and complicated. Because all Sam could think of in that moment, was that his brother blames himself for their father's death and he's in pain.

But reality had a cruel sense of timing, slamming into the brothers. And Sam hates the role he played during his brother's panic attack. Just shows him how much his brother is trying to ignore everything, but is failing. Sam can only wait, and hope he can help and be what his brother needs when he finally decides to face it. Sam prays his brother doesn't try to run and hide, that will only makes matters worst.

But hiding is exactly what Dean is doing. Hiding from Bobby, who's now their only friend really. Was their only hunter source too after Meg went on her rampage...that is until they found the Roadhouse. And Sam has a feeling Dean's also trying to hide from him. He probably wants to ignore what happened yesterday, pretend it never happened.

Sam quickly finds Dean, hood of the car up, and already working up a sweat. Must make working on the car that much harder having to wear long sleeves while working hard. He never thought about it before, when Dean was completely fixing up the Impala after the crash. Usually it's not so obvious, the weather usually allows them to cover up, and it not seem odd. Not so obvious that Dean's hiding even more of himself.

Sam thought, now that he and Bobby knew about the truth, he wouldn't try so hard. But in truth, Sam still hasn't seen how bad the cutting is lately. Before the hospital and before Dad, it's a little hard to judge. But now...with everything...Sam's a little worried but also curious. What do his arms look like? Old and new scars that no longer hold the allusion of a hunt gone bad. They're self-inflicted.

Sam pushes all thoughts from his mind as he approaches his brother. He needs to focus. He needs to remind himself that this isn't about him.

"How's the car looking?" Sam asks as he leans against a nearby car, off to the side of where Dean's working.

Dean does not look up from the car. He heard someone approach, and knew it was his brother. He hoped he could avoid this confrontation for a few more hours, days even, if he could. He can't talk about what happened yesterday. He knows he probably scared his brother, and he knows it's been over a year since the attack, and more than half a year since Sam's learnt the truth. He should e able to talk about it. Most people would probably be able to talk about it by now. He knows this makes him weak, pathetic, even a coward. But he can't. He can't talk about it. Not yet. He's still not sure if he'll ever be ready. Ever time he learns something new he freaks, and retreats that much further into himself.

"Everything looks in working order. I just want to make sure everything is still good while we're here. She's been through a lot. Better to make sure now, instead of having her breakdown in the middle of nowhere during a hunt." Dean replies, finally turning to face Sam. He leans against the front of the car, but still does not meet Sam's stare. He focuses on wiping off his dirty hands with an old towel.

Sam feels tears sting his eyes, but he wills them away. It breaks Sam's heart that the car and how it was damaged in the crash, is more important to Dean than Dean is to himself. He can admit the car went through a lot, and can admit Sam's been through a lot. But no mention of himself.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea." Sam replies, trying to keep his voice steady. He can breakdown when he's alone, or at Doctor Kane's. He knows his brother's going to say no, which should piss Sam off, but right now it's a blessing.

"Going to get your hand looked at?" Dean asks, throwing the towel next to him. He knows why his brother's out here. And he wants to be a good brother and take Sam to a walk-in clinic. But Sam's shrink is in town. Which is the main reason Dean can't leave Bobby's. Those shrinks were originally given by the doctors for him, because they think he needed help. And they're probably right. So Dean can't go. Can't take the risk that the doctor would want to talk to him. If he's helping Sam great...but Dean just can't.

"Yeah. I think the wrist is definitely broken. Hurts like a bitch." Sam unconsciously starts rubbing his sore wrist.

"You should have taken care of that yesterday." Dean replies, hating himself the instant the words are spoken.

"I know." Sam says sadly. "But we both know why I couldn't, Dean."

"What's Bobby up to anyway?" Dean asks quickly. Needing to change the subject.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks, confused. He should hate that his brother is ignoring everything. But the question throws him.

"I mean, he's always here. He was here when the demon had...when Meg." Dean falters, a pain pushing at his chest. This is to close to talking about Dad. "And then he was here when I got out of the hospital. Stayed around for the few weeks while I got the car fixed up. And now, not even a week or so...I haven't been keeping track...since we've been gone...I don't...He's still here. Mind you, I don't know if he always takes a holiday around this time, but why isn't he hunting?"

"Dean..." Sam's not sure what Dean's getting at. Sure, Sam's asked that question a few times. And he's pretty sure Bobby's been available on purpose. Which should upset him, but he can't be mad at Bobby. Bobby's been a life-line, a saint. He's not sure what would happen if Bobby weren't around. But he can't explain all that to Dean, he wouldn't be as happy.

"I mean...he can't be hunting right." Dean continues, clearly on a little bit of a rampage. Dean's not sure why he can't stop talking. But he has this need to fill the silence...with anything. He can't let Sam bring up what happened. He can't talk about that. He'd rather make a fool of himself talking a mile a minute.

"I mean...why isn't he hunting. Is he just sitting around, waiting for us to need him again. Waiting for us to break, and need refuge. God! Because...it's not liking he's killing spirits and big bad monsters from his kitchen with the sole power of his mind." Dean freezes as the words he just spoke change all context. His father's words before he...back at the hospital, yelling into his mind. He cringes.

Sam sees the instant change in his brother, and the reality of the huge list that they haven't talked about...haven't tried to fix slams into Sam's head like a friggin' electrical drill. They're ignoring so much. It's been over a year since he left Stanford, and they leapt over so much without even realizing it. Maybe that's why it's sometimes easy for Dean just bury himself in the hunt, it sometimes makes it easy to forget what day it was.

They didn't even notice the pass of Christmas or even New Years, they were too focused on their dad being back and the chaos with the demon. They also passed over November 2nd. It's usually a painful day that the family avoided, but all pained overly silently before he left for Stanford. Sam remembers when he was little the lack of any kind of emotion or any fun on that day, he never quite understood back them. Having a brother who just needed to get by the daily activities, not allowing them to talk about anything else. Having a father that would come stumbling into their motel of the week smelling odd, which he would later learn to be strong alcohol. But this year, he's surprised he didn't realize what day it was when it passed. It held new meaning, two deaths.

Not to mention everything else they still need to work on, still need to fix. Their father's death. The hunt, and how lately it hasn't been going well, it's more of an escape tactic. With everything, he's practically forgotten about Jessica, but when the memory of her reappears, it aches that much more because he knows he's been forgetting about her.

They also haven't talked about Sam's psychic crap. Sure, he hasn't had a vision in...months. But after everything that happened with the demon, in that cabin...saying he has plans for Sam. It scared the crap out of him in that moment, but ever since the hospital...everything has been spiraling out of control. He's forgotten all about it, until now.

And then there's Dean's long list of issues that Dean's more than happy to throw under a rock, then actually admit that they're real. There's the cutting, growing up way too fast, getting molested, raped, the panic attacks, now the pill dependency, ignoring all the lose, and wanting to bury everything under the hunt. Sam's not sure how to handle everything. How can he help his brother when Dean would much rather run around the country, seeking out danger and hoping to protect the world from things they'd only every heard of through fiction novels, and horror movies.

Neither of the boys know what to say, and it's killing both of them. There is so much Sam wants to say, wants to talk about. Dean on the other hand, there is so much he wants to ignore. He knows his brother's thought process, and the flood gate his words must have opened. So he does the only thing he can do...

"I'm sure it's nothing." Dean finally says when his brother says nothing. Without looking at his brother, he knows he's staring. So Dean just turns back to the car as he continues. "Look Sam, I'd love to head into town with you...but I really need to check everything out here. Not sure how long you're planning on having us stay here this time. But...I for one need to make sure the car's in working order, in case we up and leave as early as tomorrow."

"Um...are you sure? I'm sure Bobby doesn't mind. We can stay here for a while." Sam replies, really wishing his brother would just look at him.

"No Sam, we can't." Dean finally turns to look at his brother, looking him right in the eye. Anger pouring out of his words. "There are things we need to do. People we need to help. Things we need to kill. That used to be important to Bobby too, before he started making himself available for our down time. It's stupid Sam, he should be out there, hunting."

"You're mad because he's been there for us?" Sam's surprised that Dean's taken on the anger, and that really shouldn't surprise him. That's what Dean does to avoid the other emotions that he deems to be weak.

"I'm not mad Sam, sorry, I'm sure...I just want to work on the car okay." Dean sighs, not sure where the anger came from. He shouldn't be mad at Bobby, not for this. Bobby's been a great friend, and Dean only wishes he could take the support that is right there for him...both Bobby and his brother.

Instead, Dean turns back to his car, his hands are shaking. He needs the anger, because after last night...he can't let his memories and emotions get the better of him. Not here. Can't let his memories push more onto him, he wants them to stay where they are, hiding...ignored.

"Come on Dean. Why don't you come with me. Have a relaxing day. Hang out." Sam says, desperate for his brother to stop avoiding him. He hates this. Why did all this have to happen to them.

"Sorry Sam, I don't really see what's on your plan for today being very much relaxing. I think I'll pass." Dean replies, keeping his back to his brother. Sure, Sam hasn't said what he plans to do today. But he doesn't have to. He knows Sam's going to visit his shrink, maybe it will only be to get Dean more pills...and that just causes more problems for Dean. He just can't.

"Are you sure? You don't even know what I plan to do today...besides seeing a clinic about my wrist. Come on, it might be nice. Do something..." Sam trails off, not sure he can say the words, because it hurts. Hurts to think they both only ever tried that for four years of their lives each. Dean had it too young to probably remember much of it, where as Sam only had trying to run away from the reality of their family. Both hurt just as much to think about.

"Normal? Is that what you were going to say? Come on Sam, that's not going to happen. I know what your going to do today. And it's fine. If it helps, I'm not going to say you shouldn't see him. But I need to stay here, work on the car. Okay? Good luck with the wrist." Dean still keeps his back to his brother, and focuses on the car. He knows it's mean, and maybe even a little immature, but it's all he can do.

"Right...uh, well, I guess I should get going. Don't know how much longer I can take the pain." Sam says, tears stinging his eyes. Not sure if he's really only talking about the pain in his wrist anymore. Because he can barely feel that. Everything else hurts too much.

Sam stands there, hoping his brother will say something...do something. But there's only silence, and a few tears slowly leak out of Sam's defenses, and roll down his cheek.

"Okay...I'll see you when I get back." Sam chokes out, hating how weak he sounds. Hoping his brother won't pick up on it. But he can't wait around to see...because it won't change a thing. He quickly leaves...needing to get away.

Sam walks back into Bobby's house, only to grab Bobby's car keys. Tears are running down his face, so he doesn't want to have Bobby see him. So he leaves without a word.

Bobby, now reading a book in the living room, hears the door open and close. When he doesn't hear Sam, but only the door open and close again, Bobby gets up. He makes his way to the front door, but does not leave. He gets there in time to see Sam approach his car alone. His shoulders slumped, and he's clearly dragging his feet. Bobby doesn't need to see the tears to know that Sam's talk with Dean didn't go well. _God damn stubborn idjit._

Bobby wants to find Dean and give him a good talking to. But not yet. Sam's going to be gone for awhile and Bobby doesn't want to make things worst. He doesn't want to have his confrontation with Dean to blow up in his face, and have Dean take off to put distance between them. Bobby doesn't want Sam to come back to find Dean gone for the night, and then come back wasted. Or worse, after their talk, Dean might have an attack or lock himself in the bathroom and hurt himself. He can't put the brother's through that. He'll talk to Dean in a few hours if he's still avoiding him. It will probably be painful regardless, but hopefully it won't hurt anyone...physically anyway.

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Sam gets his wrist looked at first, and as he thought, the wrist is broken. He calls Doctor Kane while he waits to get his wrist set and casted. He didn't talk to Doctor Kane directly, but the woman he spoke to seemed surprised after putting him on hold to talk to Doctor Kane and confirm if he had availability today. He has an appointment at 4:30pm, about three hours from now. He's surprised it's not quite 2pm yet. He feels exhausted, as if it should be closer to eight or ten.

The clinic gets his wrist in a cast faster than he anticipated. Gave him a prescription for pain killers, and he is then sent on his way. He still has about an hour before his appointment, so he gets his pain meds, despite the fact he'll have to go back to the pharmacy to get Dean's pills.

He ends up at Doctor Kane's office about fifteen minutes early. He feels numb sitting in the waiting room. He hates the feeling, and it always makes him wonder if this is what Dean does to himself on a daily basis. Put himself in a numb, disconnected state, just to ignore the pain that seems unbearable.

Sam soon finds himself sitting in Doctor Kane's office. Like every earlier session, Doctor Kane brings his chair to sit in front of his desk. But Sam's not sure he wants this to be a regular session where he cries over his pain. He just needs someone that can write Dean a new prescription, and this seems to be his best chance.

"Sam, I didn't think I was ever going to see you again after our last session. You said you were hitting the road with your brother." Doctor Kane says as they both settle down.

"I know, but my brother and I are staying at Bobby's for the next few days...and I needed to talk to you about something." Sam replies, hoping Doctor Kane doesn't give him a hard time. But knowing Doctor Kane, hell...any doctor, he's bound to ask a million questions.

"Alright, well...let's start with the obviously, before we get to the why's. It's been a little over a week since our last session, and you gave me the impression that it was our last. But here you are...with a cast. What happened to your arm?" Doctor Kane asks, already starting to write a small note down. He then sits back in his chair, and looks at Sam, waiting.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Got knocked down, landed on my wrist wrong. Broke it." Sam replies, trying to buy himself some time. Because it's not like he can say; _hey, got tackled by a small zombie girl_. Nope, that would get him committed. So he needs to think of a better reason.

"When did this happen?" Doctor Kane asks, clearly trying to read Sam. Try and tell if he's lying.

"Yesterday." Sam replies, leaving out the bit about only getting it looked at a few hours ago. Just more questions would come of that. And Sam doesn't want to get into all that, needing to filter the story.

"How did it happen exactly?" Doctor Kane asks, clearly ready to start writing.

"Oh, it's nothing major. Just...uh, my brother and I were are a bar, just getting some late supper. There was just a little altercation. Kind of got in the way, and went down. Landing on the wrist wrong." Sam's sure the Doctor can see through his lie. How does Dean do this so well half the time? How do they both do this during a hunt? Sam's just not feeling it right now.

"I see." Doctor Kane replies, clearly not buying Sam's story. But he doesn't question, nor does he make any notes. "So why are you and your brother back at Bobby's again so soon?"

"Something happened, and I just thought it would be best. Plus, I needed to see you about something." Sam wants to kick himself, this isn't going well. His head's all over the place. Just another reason why this session can't be about him or his feelings.

"Let me guess, your here because of your brother?" Doctor Kane asks, making a small note in his book.

"Yes." Sam states. He knows Doctor Kane isn't stupid. And based off their previous sessions, and what he's read, he knows this is going to give him a headache.

"What happened?" Doctor Kane asks, trying to push the session to something a little more personal.

"I need to get a new prescription for Dean's anxiety medication. The doctors at the hospital after the crash only gave me two, and he's running out." Sam knows the heated debate will begin any minute now. He only hopes it's worth it.

"I'm guessing, since you're asking me to fill a prescription for your brother, that he still isn't seeking psychiatric help himself." Doctor Kane asks. Keeping his face unreadable.

"Dean doesn't really...he won't talk to a shrink. He's slowly working through everything, I hope, and he's slowly opening up to me. But there's no way he'll talk to a shrink. He's completely against that, and I won't force that onto him. Not with everything he's gone through." Sam replies, trying to keep his emotions in check. He needs to do this for Dean. Going back to Bobby's empty handed isn't an option.

"I get that your brother has been through a lot Sam. But in my position, I can't in good conscience just write off a prescription for someone that isn't even a patient of mine. You must have known we'd have to talk about this. And you probably won't like some of what I have to say." Doctor Kane doesn't want to upset his patient, but he knows it's going to happen. He's prepared.

"I figured...okay...um, what exactly is there to talk about?" Sam asks, trying to get himself in the right state of mind to be able to win this debate, even though he already feels it's a lose cause. He knows if he was on the other side of this, he wouldn't give the prescription.

"Okay, well...I talked to the doctors at the hospital, briefly obviously. I wasn't surprised with how they handled your brother, it's pretty standard in these situations." Doctor Kane goes to continues, but he's clearly upset his patient already.

"Standard? What is that supposed to mean?" Sam doesn't want to be angry, he really doesn't. But it's almost like they back-peddled, into...well, as if Sam's never had a session with him before. He feels completely pushed aside.

"Sam, I'm not trying to upset you here. I'm just trying to lay everything out on the table. Have you understand the situation that I'm in, as well as yourself, and your brother." Doctor Kane waits, wanted to be sure Sam understands.

Sam doesn't know what to say to that, so he only nods. He's done the research, he knows what Doctor Kane is going to say. He knows it's going to be a miracle if he can get Doctor Kane to sign off on a new prescription. But Sam's looked at every option, and this still felt like the best one.

"Okay, so your brother was loosely diagnosed by the doctors with a mild panic disorder. They prescribed him with a point five milligram of Xanax, to be taken three times a day. The prescription was good for two weeks. They gave your numbers for psychiatrists, because both help and medication where supposed to go together, not separate. Because someone like myself can assess what is best for your brother once those two weeks are up. If Xanax is the best course, or something else. And that doesn't factor in everything I've learned about your brother when you came in for your session. That is something the doctors at the hospital weren't putting into their diagnostic." Doctor Kane pauses, wanting to let this be an open conversation, not just something where he runs the facts.

"Okay...but, he...so, what does that mean?" Sam asks, not sure how to process everything. It's not a surprise really, it's expected. But Sam can't go home empty handed.

"Well...it's hard to figure out what's best for your brother, without your brother present. But I'm going to go out on a whim, based on what I know of your brother off what you've told me...I'm going to say that your brother isn't taking the pills like he's supposed to. He's using them as a quick fix, taking them when the panic occurs. Is that right?" Doctor Kane asks.

"Um...I didn't really monitor him, okay. Maybe I should have...but those few weeks after the accident...he really didn't want to talk to anyone. He just focused on the car. But with your logic, that it's been over two weeks and he's only now running out...and what I..." Sam doesn't want to bring up what happened yesterday, he needs to talk about it, yes...but it won't help his situation he's in now. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Sam feels defeated. All the fight drained from his body. But he can't...he needs to do this. He can't let his brother down. He knows it might be wrong...and another way to ignore the problem and just add another thing to the list that needs to be fixed. But what else can he do.

"Okay. And you must know how dangerous that is for your brother. Taking Xanax, especially the way your brother is taking it, highly increases emotional and physical dependency. It's why it is so important that there is a doctor to supervise your brother. Make sure your brother is on the right medication for what he's going through, and that he isn't abusing it. I can't in good conscious fill out more prescriptions for your brother. I'm sorry Sam." Doctor Kane knows this isn't the end, he knows Sam's going to fight for his brother. He should feel proud that Sam feels this bound for his brother, but he can't fold.

"So that's it? Come on, I can do more. I can make sure he takes it like he's supposed to. I promise." Sam pleads.

"I know you mean it Sam, and I know you want to be that person for your brother. And I don't mean this in a negative way, or to make you feel any worse. But I think your brother may need more that what you can give him." Doctor Kane is in situations much like this all the time, it's part of the job. But there is something about Sam, something about this whole situation that makes him want to do more. He feels there are big chunks of the story that he's still in the dark about...something that just makes the situation that these two brother's are in, that much darker.

"I told you...he won't talk to a shrink. And I know the other other options...group therapy, and in-patient hospitalization. None of that is an option. You don't know my brother. It wouldn't only make things worse even to suggest them." Sam feels tears stinging his eyes, what is he supposed to do.

"I know this is hard for you, and I'm glad that your seeked help. What happens a lot in situation like this...family member dealing with people like your brother, forget to get help themselves. Dealing with the wide range of issues that your brother is dealing with, is almost just as hard on you then it is on him." Doctor Kane replies, always hating to bring that up to family and friends.

"I know...I know. I should be pissed at the suggest, and I'm sure you get that a lot. But I understand, plus I've read that too. It makes sense, I don't know what to do half the time. So it's nice to talk to someone that is kind of sworn to secrecy. There are still things I can't talk to Bobby about. But...I don't think I'm going to come back after today's session. I know you might think it's stupid...but there's too much going on. I need to focus on my brother." Sam wipes the lone tear that broke through his defense.

"And your brother is lucky he has you...but Sam, in reality, you might not be enough to help him. You haven't talked too much about it...but your brother is suffer more than what the doctors at the hospital diagnosed him with. More than just a panic disorder. We talked about it a little...but I think it might be nice to talk about it a little more, now...before we discuss medication." Doctor Kane continues...they only really discussed what happened to Dean, and the possibility that he was suffering PTSD slightly in past sessions.

"Yeah, of course, I mean...we didn't talk to much about it...but I did a lot a research since our first meeting. I'm not a doctor obviously, so I don't really know if I'm right with some of my...I donno. I know it would even be easier for you to meet him, talk to him. But I can't do that to him." Sam feels more tears run down his face. What is it with therapy that always gets people to breakdown. Sam hates it.

"Okay...well, you're brother obviously suffers from panic attacks, he's most likely also depressed. You both may be suffering from that because the lose in your life. Your brother also suffers from self-esteem issues." Doctor Kane watches a smiles spread across Sam's face, and he stops talking.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking about what Dean would say to that...having self-esteem issues. I'm not saying your wrong, because I really do think it's true...as well as self-hate. But he'd probably roll his eyes eyes, and be pissed. Thinking having self-esteem issues makes him a girl. Sorry, I didn't mean to stop you...continue." Sam's smiles fades as he talks, the tears start to build in his eyes again.

"Okay...well, you now covers self-hate, which brings us to the self-harm...the cutting. And I also think he might be suffering post-traumatic stress disorder." Doctor Kane finishes.

"Yeah...I thought about that too. Did some reading...it scares me to admit it...but it seems to fit." Sam admits, sadly.

"Okay, why do you say that. We only talked about your brother briefly. You spend every day with him. If he is suffering from PTSD, that only cements my stand against writing him another prescription. I'm sorry." Doctor Kane says, setting his pen down against his notepad. Focusing his attention on Sam.

"But can you really diagnose him with that without talking to him?" Sam asks, desperate to do anything...say anything. It's crossed Sam's mind that his brother may be suffering PTSD, it makes sense...but he needs to get that prescription.

"Okay...let's go over what I'm sure you've already read. There are many traumatic events that lead to PTSD." The doctor starts. Unaware that he'll skip over some major ones, events that Sam and Dean have gone through because of their life...because of the hunt.

Sam knows he can't mention the fact that Dean's been through a lot of violent assaults, which is one of the internet examples he found. He also never mentioned how their father raised them...which might be considered physical abuse at times...not to mention the one time for Dean it was definitely abuse. He also can't mention that their daily lives are like soldiers of war. Constantly fighting a battle most people don't even know exists.

"There's your recent car accident...which could be a factor. I don't think it's a big one. But people that do go through a crash as violent as what you and your brother went through. That can sometimes lead to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Now...before you ask. I don't think you have it. And I think the biggest reason why you don't, is because the crash didn't affect you in that way. It wasn't about you, in that car, when it happen. You were focused on everyone else around you...your brother and your father. Then, there's the fact that your brother grew up way too fast, because of your mother's death. He might have considered himself almost an adult when it happened, but he wasn't. He was only a child when he was sexual assaulted. I definitely think that event is a factor, especially since you said he repressed it until recently. But I think the biggest factor is the rape." Doctor Kane pauses, wanting to make sure all the words sink in.

"Ya...um...I guess that...your right. And I thought about all that when I was reading a bunch of stuff over the internet and the library. I wish it wasn't true...but it makes sense." Sam avoids the doctor's stare, not wanting to breakdown completely...but he feels close to the edge.

"I need to ask a question about the rape...something you never mentioned." Doctor Kane says.

"Okay...I'll try to answer it. Dean still hasn't talked about it...so..." Sam feels like a complete idiot. He should have just stolen the pills...it would have been easier.

"When did it happen? You never mentioned specifics...just that you found out the truth a little over half a year ago. But you never said when it happened to him. Do you know?" Doctor Kane hates asking these types of questions...especially when he has a bad feeling that the patient doesn't know that answer.

"Oh...um..." _Damn it._ The tears start running down his face again, because the truth is...he has no idea exactly when it happened.

"Sam...it's okay. I didn't ask to get you upset. I just wanted to see how much you knew." Doctor Kane says, keeping calm.

"I don't really know. He hasn't talked about it at all. I can only go off the little I know. I found out he got tested last May...and I did some research on that...and I know when it comes to HIV and Aids, that sometimes it takes about six months for the disease to be recognized in tests. So I would assume it happened sometime before he got me at school. When...how...I have no idea. I wish I knew. But I don't." Sam tries to wipe the tears from his face, but they keep coming.

"Okay...so we'll say it happened anywhere between a year and a half, to two years ago. All I'm trying at, because everyone moves at their own pace...but it's a long time to keep it all in...all to yourself. And when it comes to PTSD, and add that to everything your brother is going through...I mean, each thing we established he has...alone needs its own treatment. Put them all together...it only makes everything that so much strong. Early treatment for PTSD is so important...it makes things a little easier. But obviously it always doesn't happen that way." Doctor Kane continues.

"I know...I read a fair amount on PTSD...I know it all. I know symptoms, and I know my brother is showing a few of them...anger, guilt, shame, self-hatred, and blame...now possibly substance abuse. Panic attacks, nightmares, probably flashbacks and a great deal of distress. Who knows what else because we don't talk...not as much as I'd like. And it's so overwhelming, that I'd love to come here more often...but I can't...I don't know if I can. Not when my brother is still struggling, so much." Tears are now pouring down Sam's face as he struggles through what he's saying. It hurts so much.

"I understand Sam. And I wish your situation, and the situation your brother was in were different. I just ask that, if you don't continue to see me, that you at least talk to Bobby anytime you feel like this. Anytime you feel overwhelmed, or scared, or angry, or sad. Because I think you're brother shows you why keeping all those emotions inside...letting them fester, is never good. And you'd be no help to him later down the road if you weren't dealing yourself." Doctor Kane waits until he's done talking before he quickly makes a small notes in his book. He then looks back at Sam, waiting for a response.

"I will...I promise. I know there are still things I can't say to Bobby...but I'll talk to him. I promise." Sam desperately wipes at his face, needed to get rid of the wetness.

"Okay...so, I'm sure you also read about what you should do. Needing to be patient and understanding...which I'm not saying your not. I'm just going over everything. You probably also know to try and anticipate and prepare yourself to handle when PTSD triggers may occur, which might be hard since you don't know the full story. But with rape...there are a lot of precautions without knowing the details. Okay?" Doctor Kane pauses, only long enough to see Sam give a jerking nod...giving him the go ahead to continue.

"You also shouldn't take anything that happens personally...you're brother is trying to deal with all this all on his own. He might lash out, especially at you, since you're the one around. And the biggest thing I can say is to not pressure him to talk. But by the sounds of it...you're not. But you need to be ready when he is. I know it can feel overwhelming, and you're probably stressing over saying the wrong thing. But that's all you can do...if be there for him, okay?" Doctor Kane finishes.

"I know...I want him to talk...so badly. But I know not to push him." Sam says, finally managing to stop the tears. He wants to disappear into the couch. Vanish. Take all the pain away with it.

"Okay...so we got the PTSD talked through...but I think what's equally as important and dangerous is the self-harm. Last time we talked...you just learnt about it, and your brother shut you out. Have you made any progress towards having him talk about that?" Doctor Kane asks, surprised that Sam hasn't tried to stop this and demand for the pills. He really didn't think he'd get him to talk this much.

"He's talked about it a little bit...but it's still really hard for him and me. I can't watch him all the time, so I don't even know if he's stopped or anything. He won't really let me in. But he did tell me he's been doing it since he was fourteen. Which scares the crap out of me. He says it wasn't as bad. But if a fourteen year can turn to something like that...and still be using it as a coping mechanism now...after everything. It's bad. I can't ask him to just stop. I know. I keep telling I'm here for him...but I don't know what else to do. I can't just sit around and hope he's doing the right thing. It hurts." Sam really wishes he went with theft, because this was just brutal. And the longer they talked, the more Sam had the feeling he was going to be denied the one thing he came here for. New tears burn their way down Sam's cheeks, and he wants to rewind the clock, and re-do the day. Hell...re-do the whole year.

"I understand Sam. And if you both refuse to seek outside help, it's probably only going to get harder. Your brother has had to deal with so much in life, and he's always felt like he's had to deal with it all on his own. But since today might be our last session...I'd like to go over some helpful point for you dealing with your brother...alright?" Doctor Kane asks.

"Sure...I um...probably read it all...but I'd be okay to talk about it." Sam really wants to avoid the tears, he wipes the new ones away. But Sam gets the feeling Doctor Kane has other plans.

"Don't make judgmental comments or tell your brother to stop the cutting. I know you want him to stop...but those comments or the suggestions...they may to do damage. But I'm not too worried about that...but I thought I'd comment on it." Doctor Kane pauses, allowing Sam to talk if he wants.

"I know...it's hard. Not the judgement part of course. I mean, I understand why he does it. But I wouldn't say anything to make it worse, definitely not on purpose. And I want to tell him to stop, but I know that might piss him off. I just want to help him." Sam replies softly.

"I know...and we'll discuss some alternate way of dealing with what's happening, which you can suggest to your brother. But I just want you to be careful. It's great that your brother is talking about it. And there's a chance that...now that you know the truth...he might be trying to stop...not because he wants to, but because he doesn't want you to find out and be that much more disappointed." The doctor takes takes a breath, about to keep speaking, but Sam cuts him off.

"I'm not disappointed in him." Sam says, slightly angry.

"I didn't mean that. I know your not. But your brother, from what I can tell from what you've told me...he might feel that way." Doctor Kane replies quickly, needed to make sure Sam understands.

"I know...I'm sorry." Sam instantly deflates against the couch.

"Okay...so I'll move onto the next. I know you won't offer to help him find a therapist, or a support group. But I'd like for you to keep it in mind. I know it kind of contradicts when I say not to force in to talk because of the PTSD. But when you guys have those moments where you guys talk...if you ever get to that point. I don't want you to forget about that...okay. Because you never know...maybe one day he'll be open to the suggest." Doctor Kane makes a quick note before he continues.

"I'm sure you are constantly telling your brother that you'll listen if he ever needs to talk, and that you care about them...that's good. I don't want you to ever stop that, because even though your brother might not acknowledge it...it helps him. You should also maybe try to find something enjoying for the two of you to do together...now maybe that's hitting the road again...I don't know. You don't really talk much about general activities you two like to do. But it might help...There are so many things to be aware of. The only other thing I feel I need to stress, is that cutting...for your brother, is a way for him to maintain some amount of control over everything. I might be wrong of course, because I have no idea what's going through your brother's mind. But he needs this for some reason, wether it's the need for pain, or a way to get the inner pain out...there's too many reasons behind him turning to something like this." Doctor Kane takes a breath, he should be used to talking this much. But his past sessions with Sam have been different, and he's surprised Sam's allowing them to do this.

"I get all this...I do. And I really do appreciate you taking the time to go over it all. But I really need to get Dean a new prescription. You know going cold turkey...just stopping the medication, is just as bad. So isn't not giving me a new prescription for my brother just as bad?" Sam asks, getting that much more desperate.

"You're right...stopping medication such as Xanax, or any kind any anti-anxiety medication in the classification of Benzodiazepine, it is dangerous. But continuing on medication unsupervised, and not as prescribed...that is probably more dangerous. I want to help your brother, Sam. I really do. But this...this isn't going to help him. It's only giving him another method of ignore all the issues, and add another...substance abuse. I know you think this is helping, and taken correctly, medication can help. But this...this isn't helping. I'm sorry Sam." Doctor Kane finishes sadly.

"I know...trust me, I understand everything you are saying. And if...God! If the situation was different I would totally agree with you. But he needs it, I can't just go back to Bobby's and tell him all this...I can't. I can't push him away any more...it would just..." Sam is cut off by Doctor Kane's secretary knocking on the door.

Sam turns his face away as the secretary peeks her head into the room. He's sure she must see patients cry all the time, he shouldn't be ashamed of it. And he's not...doesn't mean he wants more than Doctor Kane to see him like this.

"I am so so sorry. But I have Mister Carlson on the phone, and he refuses to stop calling until I let him speak to you. I told you were with someone, and that I'm not allowed to interrupt, but he seems to be freaking out. I'm so sorry." The secretary rambles, clearly nervous.

Sam kind of feels bad for the girl, and the whole situation makes Sam push everything he's feeling a side. Makes him pull his focus back. It might have sucked for her to interrupt, but maybe Sam can take this as the miracle he was hoping for.

"I'll be there in a minute, I'll take the call at your desk." Doctor Kane says to his secretary, and she quickly leaves.

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing they are now alone again. He then looks over at Doctor Kane.

"I'll only be a minute, I'm sorry about this. But maybe you can take this time to think over what we talked about. I don't want you leaving here hating what ends up happening. I want you to leave here feeling a little better about the situation you're in. So if you can think of any question for me, or comments, we'll discuss this when I get back. Don't worry, I don't have someone else coming in until six...so we can run a little past your hour because of this little hiccup. Alright?" Doctor Kane asks, putting on a smile.

"Okay." Sam smiles, because he doesn't need to think about it. He's getting those pills for his brother. He just needs a minute alone with Doctor Kane's desk. And it looks like Mr. Carlson...and whatever dilemma he's currently having, is going to give him that opportunity. If Doctor Kane won't sign over the prescription himself...Sam will just have to take it.

Doctor Kane gets up and leaves the office. Leaving the door slightly open.

Sam waits a couples seconds to make sure Doctor Kane isn't going to step back into the office. He can hear him talking outside the door. Sam takes that opportunity to quickly push himself off the couch.

He makes his way towards Doctor Kane's desks, and franticly...yet carefully, searches his desk. Luckily it doesn't take him much time to find Doctor Kane's blank prescription pages. He takes a blank piece of paper, places it on top of the note pad, and grabs a pencil. He scrubs the pencil over the blank piece of paper to get an impression of what was written on the note pad. He gets a relatively clear picture of Doctor Kane's signature. Sam then rips a few pages from the prescription pad.

Sam puts everything in his pocket before he rushes back to the couch. He tries to calm himself down, both from the emotions and the adrenaline pounding at his chest. It's not the riskiest thing he's ever done...but it sure is important.

After a couple more minutes, Doctor Kane enters the room. He takes his seat. He looks slightly exhausted and frustrated. Sam couldn't hear the conversation the doctor had with another patient, but it obviously wasn't pleasant.

"I'm sorry about that Sam." Doctor Kane says, clearly upset as he takes his seat.

"It's okay, I understand." Sam feels a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. It's not in the clear yet...but now it doesn't matter what Doctor Kane says. He'll get what he needs regardless.

"Okay...so, was there anything else that you felt we needed to discuss?" Doctor Kane asks.

Sam knows he can't suddenly drop the effort, that would appear odd. He needs to keep up the image that he's desperate.

"What else can I say to make you believe that filling out a new prescription for Dean is the best way to help him right now?" Sam asks, allowing the emotions he's trying to suppress, finally seep into his voice.

"Sam...I know you think you're doing what's best for your brother. I know you want to help him any way you can. But this isn't helping him. You're brother is using an anti-anxiety medication as a quick relief when the panic strikes. That's not what the Xanax was prescribed for. With counseling, a therapist would be able to prescript exactly what would help your brother. But you seem to think he would never go for that. So...if you don't have any questions, I have one last question. How often are you around your brother when he takes the medication?" Doctor Kane asks. He talked to the doctors at the hospital, he knows a lot about what happened while the brother's stayed there. More than he's told Sam.

"No...I don't see him take the pills most of the time. There are some instances where I know he probably took them, or will take them. It wasn't until the other day where I saw...I gave them to him myself." Sam doesn't have to fake the pain in his voice. He didn't want to bring up what happened the other day, because it is just another reason for why the doctor shouldn't give Sam what he wants. _Damn it! Fuck!_

"Does your brother show any signs of side effects due to the drugs? Weight changes, decreased libido, drowsiness, fatigue, memory impairment, impaired coordination, speech difficulties...to name a few of the general side effects...not to mention all the side effects that may be due to how your brother is taking the medication not as prescribed. When the medication fluctuates, you might be dealing with a whole other list of side effects, such as...twitching, tremors, anxiety, decreased concentration, depression, headaches, insomnia, loss of appetite, nervousness...the list goes on. Any of those fit your brother?" Doctor Kane asks.

"Well...I mean, some of that can be attributed to the PTSD and what he's going through...right?" Sam asks, knowing that some of the side effects may not be side effects at all. They may just be a result of what Dean is dealing with...not the medication.

"You're right Sam...with you're brother, it is hard to decide what might be a side effect versus a reaction to a nightmare, a flashback, or even a panic attack. But the first set of side effect I mentioned should still questioned. Now, you said you recently had to give your brother the medication yourself. Can you tell me what happened? Or at least how the drugs helped?" Doctor Kane asks as he writes in his note book.

"We were talking...about our father. I...uh, I kind of got in his space. I just wanted to comfort him, I completely forget everything else. He was in so much pain. When I did, he kind of freaked out. I think it had to do with the rape, even though he hasn't admitted that. I think he's really embarrassed about what happened, we haven't talked about it yet." Sam takes a deep breath, not wanting to cry anymore. He didn't wan to do this. But it might be easier to talk about this now, as opposed to with Bobby. Having to filter himself.

"He had a panic attack, and he needed his pills. I don't think he wanted me to know how dependent...I mean...I don't think. Fuck. I just...um, anyways. The pills helped. Calmed him down." Sam hates that he fucked up. He doesn't think his brother is a friggin' junkie. But Doctor Kane doesn't interrupt him.

"I guess the pills might have affected him with fatigue and drowsiness, maybe. I mean, he went to sleep in the back seat of the car a little after. But that might not have had anything to do with the medication." Sam knows his brother doesn't handle drugs like most people. Dean hates hospitals, and especially hates drugs that will put him out or make him not so aware of his surrounding. Something that's important in the job they have. So it doesn't surprise him that his brother manages to avoid a lot of the side effects of the drugs. But at the same time, Sam's a little surprised how much his brother seems to need the medication.

"Because I spoke to the doctor that treated your brother after the accident, I didn't lie when you first came in. But after your first few sessions, I thought it was important to get a bit of medical history for the both of you. The doctor told me how your brother fought against the anesthetic that they tried to give your brother. That they were worried after his panic, and the lose of your father. He wasn't eating, and wasn't sleeping. I'm sure you know they kept him sedated, but they needed to give him a lot more than they would normally someone your brother's size. Now, the dose wasn't illegal or dangerous by any means. But for reason your brother fights through medication. Now this may be something you are aware of, or something else he's keeping from you. Either way...it's another great factor in why I can't fill out a new prescription for your brother. It's all higher dangerous outside of a supervised environment like the hospital. So, unless you plan on knowing and following every rule...and watching your brother 24/7. I'm sorry, but I just can't help you. Not when you refuse to ignore big pieces of the problem." Doctor Kane can see that he's upsetting Sam, but he pushes through. Not allowing himself to get interrupted. But now...he's said all he can say.

"That's it?" Sam asks, a little hurt by what the doctor just said but he doesn't want to show it.

"I don't think there is anything else for me to cover, or anything else I can say. There's certainly nothing that will change my mind short of Dean coming to talk to me himself. I wish I could do more, I really do. But I can't. And I hope you can understand that." Doctor Kane places his note book on his desk behind him, not needing to write anything more. He hopes Sam will stay for a few more minutes and talk. But he has a feeling he's lost the boy.

"Okay. Fine. I'm sorry I wasted your time." Sam quickly got up. Not wanted to give the doctor the change to see the new tears burning at his eyes. He doesn't want the doctor to see that Sam agrees with him, and that he's in so much pain.

"Sam...you didn't waste my time. Please, take care of yourself. You know you can always call." Doctor Kane calls out, as Sam reaches the door.

Sam doesn't turn to face Doctor Kane. And that really doesn't surprise him. So Doctor Kane doesn't say anything more. And after a moment, Sam leaves the room.

Once Sam's gone, Doctor Kane stands up and walks around his desk. He stares at the appearance of his desk. It's not overly changed...most people wouldn't notice. But the doctor had a feeling that Sam might use his absence to get what he needed.

Doctor Kane sits down, and picks up the phone.

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Sam collapses into the seat of the Impala. His sight blurs with tears, and he takes a deep breath. He needs to calm down. Everything is okay. He has the prescription, it will be fake, but he still has it. All he needs to do is get to a pharmacy. Everything is fine. There's no reason to breakdown.

Sam hates this...so fucking much. Moments like this, they make Sam wonder how his brother survives. He can barely hold the weight, feeling like he's suffocating under it all.

Just go to the pharmacy, and get back to Bobby's...that's all Sam has to do. Then he can crash, or maybe even get drunk. Or cry. Maybe even talk to Bobby a bit. If he's really feeling up to it, maybe he'll even try talking to Dean.

Sam soon finds himself sitting in a...well, what looks like a waiting room, in the pharmacy he was at only hours before. For some reason the guy behind the counter, not the same person Sam had earlier, told him it would be a little while. If Sam was more awake, or just in a better head space, maybe he would has suspected something was up.

Instead, Sam pulls his cellphone out of his jacket. He needs to talk to Bobby, just to calm his nerves. He's sure he got all the tears out of his system, but he still feels on edge.

"Hello?" Bobby's voice comes through the phone, and Sam starts to breath a little better.

"Hey Bobby, it's me." Sam replies, relaxing into his chair.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asks, Sam can hear the concern in the older man's voice.

"It's been a long day Bobby, I just...needed to call. Nothing's wrong really. Well...the wrist is broken. But that's not really a surprise." Sam tries to smile, but tears sting his eyes. Why is he constantly crying like a little girl? He wasn't this bad after Jessica died. Mind you...there was a lot less on his plate back then. Which he never would have guessed after Jessica was gone.

Sam tries to pull himself together. "I just left Doctor Kane's office. I have some things to pick up, but I should be back in a couple hours."

"Um...okay." There's silence, and Sam can hear the concern and confusion in Bobby's voice.

Sam now hates that he called, because what is Bobby supposed to think. He's here almost in tears...again, and he's pretty sure Bobby has some kind of sixth sense about stuff like this. He's always able to tell when he's upset...even over the damn phone.

"Just calling to see if you needed me to pick anything up while I'm in town?" Sam replies quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Bobby's not going to believe him, he knows that for a fact.

"No, nothing. I was in town a few days ago. Mind you...I wasn't expecting company, and we both know how you eat." Bobby replies, clearly letting Sam have what he called for. Even though he doesn't buy Sam's reason for calling.

Sam smiles and this is why he called. "Alright Bobby, maybe I'll pick up some food."

"Up to you. I'll see you soon Sam." Bobby replies.

"Okay, thanks." Sam hangs up the phone. They both know the thanks meant more than what it appeared to mean. Sam may have felt weird calling, but it was definitely worth it.

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Back at Bobby's:

Bobby hangs up the phone, and sits down at the kitchen table. He knows whatever happened to bring Sam and Dean to his place again, as well as Sam's session with his occasional psychiatrist, must be weighing heavily on Sam. They haven't talked about why, but Bobby mentally prepares himself for that conversation...if Sam didn't get it all out while at Doctor Kane's.

Bobby gets up and moves to the fridge. There is one conversation he has to have before Sam gets back, and it's probably going to be harder on Bobby. But if Sam comes home in the mental state Bobby's suspecting, he shouldn't have to stress about everything.

Bobby knows how tough John was on the boys. How emotions were a weakness, and how no one should see you vulnerable. Dean taking it to heart a little too seriously, versus his brother. But Bobby gets the impression that even the amount of emotions that Sam has let slip out around him is too much. It's almost like Sam is grieving for both of them. Bobby knows Dean is struggling, but he's keeping it all inside...or at least, most of it. And that's not helping anyone. Mind you, Bobby has no idea what he misses when the boys leaves.

Bobby pulls two beers out of the fridge, and makes his way out of the kitchen. He knows exactly where Dean is, still "working" on his car. Still avoiding him. Bobby knows there can't be much to look at, the Impala was fine when the boys left. Bobby looked at it himself before they took off.

When Bobby gets to Dean, the younger man has the trunk open. Dean's just staring at the trunk, as if trying to figure out what to do.

"How it's looking?" Bobby calls out as he approaches Dean.

Dean jumps, not expecting anyone to bother him out here. He turns around quickly to see Bobby standing a few feet away from him, two beers in hand.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya." Bobby says, smile on his face. Wanting to keep it all light before pushing at the sensitive buttons.

"Naw...it's okay. I just...didn't expect any company. What's up?" Dean says as he slams the trunk closed, and leans against it.

Bobby walks over to the trunk, leaning against it as well, next to Dean. Bobby passes Dean a beer. Dean's hesitant, but he takes it.

"Sam back yet?" Dean asks, after the silence becomes unbearable.

"He just called, should be heading here soon. Couple hours maybe." Bobby replies, wanting to let Dean lead the conversation for a little while. Until he needs a push.

"Did he say anything? About the wrist?" Dean asks. Knowing there's more than that Sam went into town for. He knows his brother must of seen how low he was getting in his pills. They still haven't talked about it.

"He said it's broken. But he took care of it. He didn't say much. Just that he had a few more things to do, and then he might get some food on the way back." Bobby starts on his beer, trying to decide the best way to have a conversation with the younger man. He doesn't want to cause a fight, not like the last few times he's tried to snap some sense into the boy.

"Okay, that's good." Dean has no idea what to do. He's sure Bobby wants to talk, about something. But what can Dean possibly say? And there's no way he's going to let himself breakdown in front of Bobby. It's been happening far too often around his brother.

"The car was fine...wasn't it?" Bobby asks, figuring Dean's not going to help the conversation along at all.

"What?" Dean asks, not sure if he understood Bobby or not. Sure, his plan of avoiding Bobby by staying outside with the car seemed like a pretty stupid plan. But he never thought Bobby would call him on it.

"Well, I mean, even a check up on the car doesn't take all day Dean. Come on, who are you talking to here?" Bobby says with a smile, still trying to keep it light. Dean thought is still refusing to look at him. Guess it's a little easier when they are side by side, easy to just look straight ahead at anything but what's right beside you.

"Sorry, I guess I just got distracted. I didn't mean to...I just..." Dean blows out a deep breath, not sure what to say. He focuses on his beer, taking a long drink.

"Relax, it's okay. Just thought maybe you could use some company, and a drink." Bobby really wants to push, but there is something about Dean lately that makes him second guess coming out here at all.

"Just some company?" Dean asks, finally looking side-way at Bobby. He can tell the man wants to talk, so why isn't he asking a million questions?

"Look, your brother's going to be back soon, and I doubt he's going to be in a good mood. Now, I'll talk to him, and I'll listen. But I'm sure he'd much rather talk to you about what's going on? But you're going to ignore it, aren't ya? I don't want to cause a fight...but that brother of yours needs you...and by the sounds of it, you need him too," Bobby states, hoping he didn't make a big mistake.

"Really...and why would you say that? What has Sammy been telling you?" Dean asks, anger rising in his chest. Sam has no right to tell Bobby anything. He knows that the older man already knows some things because of certain situations. And Dean's pretty positive that Sam wouldn't do that to him, but he can't react any differently. He needs to be angry, at least act it. Can't cry...it's not an option.

"You know your brother hasn't told me anything I already didn't know about. Sometimes he has to talk about it. We all aren't like you Dean. We can't just shut the world out." Bobby knows he's getting a little harder, but if Dean wants to be angry...that's the only thing he can do. When Dean lightens, he pull back.

"I'm sorry that I don't cry my heart out like a fucking girl just because things don't go the way I want them to. What does that help? Huh? Is that why you came out here? Thought we'd drink some beer, and I'd end up crying on your shoulder?" Dean snaps, instantly hating the words the second they seep through his mouth.

"Is that really what you think about your brother, Dean?" Bobby asks, despite seeing the instant change in Dean's face. The anger drained almost instantly. Bobby can't blame him, people always say things they don't mean in the heat of anger.

Dean felt himself deflate instantly, and he hates it. Why did Bobby have to come talk to him? He can't to it...it's too dangerous. The other day...with Sam, it started off a conversation just about their father. But it morphed, changed to something stronger, and painful...more so that what it started off as. That is something Dean can't risk right now...not when he knows Bobby doesn't know about that. Maybe he has his theories, just like Sam did before he completely figured it out. But Dean doesn't want to know, can't risk the truth change Bobby's opinion of him.

"I know that's not what you think...I know your brother means a lot to you. Even more so now. And I don't even know how many times I have to tell you boys that your father was wrong...emotions are not a weakness. Ignoring the hurt until it becomes too much, that's the bigger problem." Bobby says calmly.

"That's all nice and great Bobby, but I can't just break the walls down. I'm sorry. I just can't." Dean feels tears stinging his eyes, and he downs the rest of his beer. Blinking the tears as he finishes his beer.

"Well, I'll tell you what I've told your brother. I'm here, anytime you want to talk. I'm not going to judge you, or be disappointed. Nothing you can say will change my opinion of you. Okay?" Bobby doesn't want to end it, he doesn't want to stop talking. But something tells him it would be better to just walk away.

Dean wants to laugh at how similar Bobby and his brother seem to be when it comes to the emotional crap. Sam practically said the same thing to him months ago. And as much as he wants to believe that nothing would change their mind about him. Sure, Sam hasn't left yet and he knows all the bare facts. But would Bobby be as understanding? Would they both stay by his side when they learned all the facts...heard all the vivid details of his mistakes.

"Thanks but I think I'll pass." Dean replies, no more anger left in him. If things were different, this might be amusing to him. The tough older hunter being soft.

"You're daddy was proud of you son, no matter what you think?" Bobby says softly, not sure if it's the right thing to say.

Bobby still has no idea what happened the night of the accident. Sam hasn't talked about it in detail. All he knows is that John was possessed, the demon got away, and then the crash happened. That's all Sam would ever say about it. That night seemed too painful for even him to talk about. But Bobby gets the impression that Dean's suffering because of that night too, maybe more. Something happened. Something with the demon. Maybe Sam can't talk about it because he doesn't want to reveal a secret of Dean's that he has no right to. Or maybe it's still just too hard.

"What?" Dean asks, pushing off the car and spinning sideways to face Bobby. He must have heard him wrong.

"Look, Sam still won't really talk about what happened, before the crash. I just know it was bad. I now...your dad's gone. And I know there is a lot I'm in the dark about. Some of it having to do with that night, and your daddy. But, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. But whatever happened...whatever that demon said. You're dad...he was always proud of you." Bobby says, staying calm and staying on the trunk of the car. He watches as Dean paces a small distance back and forth in front of him.

"What are you talking about Bobby. Where did you pull that out of? Your ass? Seriously, you have no idea what happened, yet you start spilling that bullshit. How would you know, huh? You cut your ties to my father, remember? You haven't see him for a few years before he died, and now you have some kind of insight?" Okay, so the anger's back. Better than tears at least.

"I know your angry. Clearly. I just thought I'd offer an ear, some words. Anything you need." Bobby will not pull out the tough love, no matter how much he wants Dean to quit pushing everything away. Maybe it a little much to assume this has anything to do with John...but it has to be a factor. John hasn't been gone too long. And Bobby knows how Dean is, always trying to measure up.

"When did you become Dr. Phil all of a sudden. Where's the tough love Bobby? Where's the guy who drilled into me after I smashed and cut my hand after beating up the Impala a few weeks back huh? The guy who smacked me up top the head, and told me to quit being an idjit and pull my head out of my ass? Huh? Where is he?" Dean demands, feeling himself start to shake. He can't panic, not here. The shaking...it's just because of the anger...nothing else. That's what he needs to think.

"Maybe tough love isn't what you boys need? You had enough of that from your father growing up." Bobby replies.

"Fuck you Bobby! Don't you dare drag my dad through the mud." Dean snaps.

"You know I didn't mean any disrespect, boy. Your daddy was a good friend of mine, even with the falling out. You know that wasn't what I meant. You want to be angry. You want to keep that front around me, then alright. Fine. I can understand you not wanting to take the risk. But don't act like everything is fine, and spend your days out here avoiding me. I'm not stupid." Bobby says, a little upset.

"I'm sorry Bobby, I didn't...I didn't mean to snap at you." Dean instantly deflates, seeing the pain in the older man's eyes.

Bobby didn't want Dean to apologize, he didn't mean to be affected by his words. If Dean talks, that's great...but no guilt trips.

"Don't apologize boy. Anger's fine. It's an emotion. Probably one that wasn't too frowned upon growing up. Hunting sure helps, huh? Getting all the anger out. But sooner or later, you'll have to stop hiding behind it." Bobby can't even image what the boys are going through. Both trying to shoulder everything all on their own.

Dean feels the anger drain out of his body with every word Bobby speaks. But the shaking doesn't stop. Dean wants to hate Bobby, hate him for pushing. But he's only trying to help. Dean knows how helpful Bobby's been for Sam. A shoulder to lean on, someone to talk to. Especially since Dean gets the impression that Sam doesn't want to come to him. Doesn't want to pressure Dean, making him feel like share time needs to be two sided. But at the same time, that makes Dean a little angry. Because every time they have an emotional conversation, it's usually Dean that ends up having an attack or ends up in tears. Yet his brother keeps his own stuff out of the way, or to Bobby...maybe even his shrink.

"Bobby...really, I'll be fine, okay. I really did just want to make sure the car was okay. Wasn't trying to hide. You should save all the Dr. Phil crap for when Sam gets back." Dean drops his gaze, not wanting to look at Bobby any longer.

"You know your brother saw Doctor Kane today, so..." Bobby's not sure why he said that. And he regrets it the moment Dean flinches at the mention of Doctor Kane.

"Who would have thought my brother would go see a god damn shrink." Dean tries to smile, but he can't. Tears start building in his eyes, and he doesn't want to move. Not a muscle.

"He just needs to talk to someone...let it all out. He can't do that with me. He doesn't want to slip up, and tell me something that I don't already know. Something that is your secret, not his to tell." Bobby wants to ignore the tears he can clearly see building in the younger man's eyes...even if Dean's avoiding his eyes. He can still see the tears...there's no hiding the pain he sees.

"What has he told you...about me?" Dean asks, needing to know.

"Not a lot. He doesn't want to betray your trust. You know that I'm aware about the cutting. All he's told me is some stuff about that. I know he didn't want to, but he needed to talk to someone. Other than that...he just talks about you, your dad, stuff like that." Bobby replies, hoping he could say something more helpful than that.

"When did you, um...about the...uh." Dean feels some tears quickly run down his face, and he pushes them away. Angry at himself. This isn't what he wanted. He turns his back to Bobby, knowing he's not lucky enough that Bobby didn't see that.

"He called me before you two went up to your mother's grave. I knew he didn't really want to tell me what you guys talked about, but he was in pain Dean. I can't really blame him. What he told me, it's a lot to take in." Bobby wants to move, wants to comfort the younger man. But he also doesn't want to spook him.

Dean just nods, not trusting his voice right now. He can't really be mad about that...can he? It's not that that conversation went very well. It's not like Dean was there for his brother...not that that's the point. How could he be there for his brother for this...it was his issue. Something he should be able to just...stop. But stopping, for whatever reason, Dean's not sure he could do that. Not when there's too much he's trying to hide away. And he's still not ready to talk, to his brother...or Bobby.

"I'm sorry." Dean chocks out. Tears still building in his eyes, but he can't let them fall. Not when Bobby's still too close.

"Dean...you don't have to apologize, not to me. It's okay. I don't want to push you, okay. I'm sorry if that's what you thought I was doing here. Do you...um...do you want me to go?" Bobby asks. He really doesn't want to leave Dean, not like this.

Dean's heart starts to race, and the shaking continues. He can't keep it in much longer. He's starting to feel claustrophobic. Which is just ridiculous, he's outside.

But images and feelings start pushing at his walls, things Dean doesn't want to look at. He needs...he needs something. Both options aren't that great. Pills that he's probably addicted to...that he's screwed if he's brother figures it out and doesn't get him a new prescription. Or something nice and sharp. The list of reasons why that's not really an option, are practically endless.

Bobby slowly gets off the trunk when he sees the shaking and doesn't get a response. He still only has theories...and if he's right about any of them. Crowding Dean...that's really not a smart thing to do. Not to mention, just in their line off...well, hunting, it's not a wise idea to sneak up on someone. Sure, Dean knows Bobby's behind him. But Bobby gets the impression that Dean's not really all here at the moment.

"Dean...you okay?" Bobby asks softly, keeping his distance.

Dean can't find his voice, doesn't trust it. He can't break. Not in front of Bobby.

"Dean? Do you um...need anything? Your um...your pills?" Bobby asks, knowing Dean hates the additional weakness that those pills most add to his weight.

Dean wants to laugh. He instantly hates the doctors who thought they were being helpful by prescribing something for his panic attacks, but they were really just added to the list of Dean's failures.

"Dean...I need to know what to do here? Are you having a...um...you need to calm down alright." Bobby says, still trying to remain calm even thought he's freaking out a little.

Dean closes his eyes, which forces some tears to fall down his face. He needs to pull himself together, on his own. He just needs to focus on breathing. But the second his eyes are closed his mind flashes backward. Dean jumps and his eyes widen, snapping open. He was expecting this to happen ever since his freak out on the side of the road. But why now...why does this have to happen when Bobby's so close. All he said was that his father was proud of him...they just argued. Why did all that have to trigger _that._ This is the one thing he wanted Bobby to never find out about. He can't freak out...not give Bobby any clues to help him figure all this out.

"Dean?" Bobby asks again, softly. He's really starting to get worried. He hasn't really had to handle this before. But he can't back out. He can't dump this onto Sam. He needs to handle it on his own.

"Dean...I'm right behind you. Can you hear me?" Bobby asks, hoping Dean's not somewhere else right now. He needs to know Dean can hear him before he tries to get Dean back into the house.

Dean can't catch his breath, his breathing coming out in sort gasps now. But he can hear Bobby's voice. Calm and close. Even though he doesn't want Bobby around for this...he has to admit that it's helping. His voice is keeping him grounded. Keeping the voices, and pain, and the fear away. But Dean still can't find his voice, and gives a jerky nod.

"Okay...good. I think we need to get you inside, alright. So I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder, and we're going to walk back inside, okay? I need you to at nod that you understand what I'm saying boy. I know this sucks. But we'll get you inside...get you your pills. You're going to be okay. Just focus on my voice...focusing on breath." Bobby keeps his voice steady as he slowly approaches Dean. Waiting.

Dean doesn't want Bobby to touch him, doesn't want anything to trigger an image. But he can't stay out here. He feels like he's dying. Feels like he can't breath. So he nods, despite himself.

"Okay. Just take it easy. It's just me." Bobby lightly places a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean flinches, but the new weight on his shoulder doesn't leave. He feels numb, despite the pain in his chest. Soon he's walking towards the house, Bobby close to him. He needs to focus. Just focus on what's happening in the moment. Where he is. Who's he's with. Bobby knows about the panic attacks, so this isn't new. But Bobby doesn't need to know the main cause of them. How stupid he was. How he fucked up.

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It's been ten...maybe fifteen minutes since Sam got off the phone with Bobby. He's not sure, time is kind of slow at the moment for him. But he's still sitting, waiting for Dean's pills to be ready so he can get back to Bobby's. That's when everything goes to shit.

Sam doesn't see anyone approach, he's in his own head space. Someone sits down next to him, and Sam turns to face them, to see Doctor Kane sit next to him. _Fuck!_

"What...what are you doing here?" Sam asks, not able to act any other way but completely busted.

"I called the pharmacist when you left my office, I didn't want to believe you'd do something like this...but I saw how desperate you were when you came to me. He called when you got here, I got here as soon as I could." Doctor Kane replies.

"So now what? You going to press charges?" Sam asks, nervously. He just wants to get out of here. Wants to get back to Bobby's.

"No. I'm not going to do that to you, or your brother. But I'm also not going to give you want you're here for. I won't let you turn your brother into a junkie." Doctor Kane warns.

"How dare you! Fuck you!" Sam shouts as he stands up, the chair banging against the wall behind it.

"Sam, calm down. I didn't mean it like that." Doctor Kane tries to remain calm, knowing he clearly pissed the younger man off.

"Then what did you mean? Huh? Seemed pretty clear to me." Sam sneers, as he clenches and unclenches his fist. He's shaking with rage.

"I know you think you're doing what's best for your brother. But if he's not taking his medication as prescribed. If he's not seeing something because of all the pain he's in. He will turn into a junkie. Using the medication as another way to bury everything he's dealing with. I'm sorry Sam." Doctor Kane replies calmly.

"Great....now we're back to therapy. Well screw you doc. Maybe he'll never be able to talk to someone like you...and I'm starting to understand why. But maybe...just maybe, one of these days he'll be able to be open and honest with me. But that won't happen if I have to go back there, and tell him why I can't give him what he needs. Fuck, when those pills run out...what's stopping him from just cutting...more." Sam pleads, tears starting to sting his eyes.

"You think you're brother has stopped since you've found out the truth?" Doctor Kane asks.

"Well...no...I..." Sam hasn't really thought about it. It's not like there'd be a lot of time later. Things have been kind of weird. "Look, I know my brother pretty well...despite all the secrets. I know how his mind works sometimes. And he'll try not to cut, because he won't want me to be that much more disappointed in him. It's another weakness. Another thing to chip away at his self-worth...if he has any left."

"Okay, so maybe he hasn't cut himself since you've found out. Maybe not. The fact is, you don't know for sure. You refuse to look at the root of the problem here, and that is your brother has a problem. Every event, lose, and pain...it's all building up inside your brother. Behind all these walls he's fabricated, because he thinks that's what keeps him safe. Keeps the world out. And I'm glad he's started to talk, it's progress. But until your brother really starts breaking down those walls...everything your brother does in attempt to cope, it's only hurting him." Doctor Kane replies, sadly.

"You think I don't know that? Huh? I do. I think about it everyday...every second since I've started to learn more and more about what my brother's been trying to shoulder alone. But I'm not going to ruin the little progress he's made by sending him to someone like you. Because to him, that would be the ultimate betrayal. So I'm going to do everything I can to be there for him. So fuck you!" Sam shouts as tears start to make their way down his face.

Sam can't talk about this anymore, because the doctor is never going to understand. Never understand how their lives really are, because he's missing one of the biggest pieces of the puzzle. Missing what made they who they are today. The hunting.

So Sam does all he can do, and he turns and leaves. He'll get the pills some other way if Dean really needs them. He just needs to get back...screw everything else.

Sam forgets about everything, getting food...Sam's whole conversation with Bobby. If Bobby really runs out...he'll get some food later. Right now...he just needs to get back. Needs to talk to Bobby, and then needs to have a nice long rest.

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Back at Bobby's:

The next few minutes are a blur. Dean's only partly aware of Bobby handing him two pills and a class of water. Soon Dean is much more relaxed, and sitting on the couch. Bobby on a chair in front of him.

"You okay now?" Bobby finally asks. Bobby's never seen the younger man in that kind of state. He knows the process of a panic attacked, but to witness it...it's totally different. Especially witnessing it happening to Dean.

"Yeah...thanks Bobby. I uh...I don't know what happened. I'm sorry you had to see that." Dean replies, avoiding Bobby's stare.

"It's okay. That's what I'm here for, to help you and your brother...if you'll let me. Or I can give you some space. Go into the kitchen, start making us all some supper. Your brother should be home in about an hour or so...if everything goes well." Bobby says, willing to give Dean anything he needs right now.

"I'm not that hungry really." Dean says softly...no emotion in his voice.

"Probably shouldn't have given you that beer, probably doesn't do well with the meds." Bobby says, realizing his mistake.

"I'll be fine. The pills using just help with the pain attack...not much else. Don't get any of those damn side effect or anything. It was only the other night were they knocked me out for the night...and well..." Dean doesn't want to admit it probably has something to do with having four within a few hours. The pill poping, still not a conversation he wants to have...especially not with Bobby.

"Well...I guess as long as they're helping, that's what matters." Bobby says, noticing the change in the younger man. He can tell Dean hates having to relay on the drugs. He knows Dean was never too fond of any kind of drugs, especially at hospitals. He also remembers how the nurses had to keep him sedated by giving him a lot of sedatives...more than most people. Dean fights the effects. Probably has a lot to do with the job, and what John drilled into his head.

"Yeah." Dean mumbles.

"You sure you're okay?" Bobby asks, starting to feel a little awkward.

"I'll be okay Bobby. Thanks. You really don't have to sit here with me, I'll be fine. I won't do anything stupid, I swear." Dean replies, not sure why he just said that. Great, now Bobby will definitely start asking way too many questions.

"That's not why I'm sitting here Dean. You ain't stupid. Nobody thinks that." Bobby says, knowing exactly what Dean is referring to.

"We haven't really talked about it...and I'm sure you want to talk about it. Don't you? It's okay. Ask whatever you want. I guess it's time, right. You've put up with my shit for long enough." Dean feels tears stinging his eyes again, but he doesn't care anymore.

"I'm not going to force you to talk Dean. This isn't going to be a payback for me letting you and your brother stay here. If you want to talk...that's one thing. I'll listen. But if you want to be alone...I'll give you space." Bobby replies, not sure how he'd handle Dean crying right now. It was awkward enough at first to handle Sam when he first broke down. But Sam was always more open about his emotions.

"You're not going to crowd me...even when you know that I..um..." Dean shakes his head...it's just another word.

"I left you outside with your car all day, didn't I? Did you do anything to yourself out there?" Bobby asks. He hasn't seen Dean's arms...not even the blood Sam said was the reason he figured it was the truth. He's kind of curious...Sam only said he saw some fade cuts on Dean's arm back at the hospital. So they both are probably pretty much at the same point. Bobby wonders if Dean's done it since Sam learnt the truth, after that big confrontation.

"No...I um..." Dean still couldn't just say it. It was like the word rape all over again. It's ridiculous. Not saying the word doesn't change anything.

"I believe you...it's okay. You don't have to worrying about the wording of it all...no is just fine." Bobby offers Dean a smile, but Dean still refuses to look at him.

"Thanks Bobby." Dean mumbles. He can't look at Bobby, even with him being kind. He can't risk there being any sign of disappointment there.

"Okay...well I guess if there's nothing to talk about...and if you're going to avoid looking at me...I guess I should give you some space." Bobby pushes back on his chair, waiting. Wanting to see if Dean will say anything.

"I'm sorry." Dean says softly, almost too softly.

"What? Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong." Bobby stays standing, behind his chair. This is the first hint Bobby's seen that Dean will maybe let Bobby in. But Bobby doesn't want to push it.

"It's just a word...just another stupid word. Why can't I say them. What's wrong with me?" Dean asks, more to himself. When he realizes he said it all out loud, he quickly looks up at Bobby. Tears shinning in his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...never mind."

Bobby doesn't even know what to say to that. The pain in Dean's eyes nearly knocks the wind right out of Bobby's lungs. Ripping at his heart. What could he possibly say to make it better. He only hopes he doesn't make it worse.

"It's going to be okay Dean. Whatever you need. I'll leave you alone, it's okay. No apologizing, it's all okay." Bobby not sure if just backing away is the way to go. Dean's clearly upset. "Unless you want some company."

"I'm not that great of company right now Bobby. I just want to get my head straight, okay? But thanks. I think I'm going to head to bed. I'm kind of exhausted." Dean tries to smile, holding the tears in with all his strength.

"You want me to wake you when your brother's back, or for supper?" Bobby asks.

"Um...maybe supper I guess. I just want to lay down for a bit." Dean replies softly.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything. We'll have supper soon after your brother gets back." Bobby stays where is he, not wanting to freak Dean into another panic attack.

Dean slowly gets to his feet, feeling like he could pass out. He doesn't understand why he's suddenly so tired, it's not because of the medication. It's just been a long day...a long couple of days.

"Thanks Bobby, for taking care of Sammy when I uh...just...I know he appreciates having someone to talk to. Even if he won't say it, the big baby." Dean smiles, trying to make a joke, but it all still hurts.

Bobby smiles, knowing it's what Dean needs. Nobody says a word. Dean's smile fades, and he can't find any other words.

Dean slowly leaves Bobby behind in the living room, making his way upstairs. Bobby sits down on the couch, not sure what to do until Sam gets back.

Once Dean's alone in his room, the tears run freely down his face. His hands are shaking, but he knows he should be safe from having another attack. He collapses on his bed, needing to calm himself down. Why did Bobby and that relatively simple conversation get to him so much.

He has a great need to drag something sharp across his fresh. Feel the pain. But he can't do it...can't risk Bobby coming up to make sure he's okay. He can't risk being stupid again. And he has no energy to lock himself away. He's already laying down...relaxed against the bed.

He curls himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around himself. The tears run silently down his face. Dean just wants to sleep. Wants to rest. Dean pulls a cover around his body as he prays for a peaceful nap.

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Continues in Part Two


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

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**CHAPTER 17 - SIMON SAID (Part Two)**

A little over an hour later, Sam pulls the car into Bobby's. He feels utterly exhausted. He just wants to crash.

Sam finds Bobby in the kitchen, making some food. He has either not heard Sam approach, or he's waiting to see what Sam's going to do.

"Smells good Bobby." Sam says, trying to push all the crap that happened to day away. Needed to feel safe, and relaxed.

"Nothing special. Just thought you might be hungry when you got back." Bobby takes some pots off the stove, starting to move some food onto some plates.

"Where's Dean? Still out looking at his car...avoiding you?" Sam says, slight amusement in his voice. He sits down at the kitchen table.

Bobby smiles, and shakes his head. His smile quickly fading as he remember what happened only hours before. Bobby leaves the food on the counter as he sits across from Sam.

"No, he's upstairs. Taking a nap." Bobby replies, not sure how to explain what happened to Sam. Who probably already had a bad day as it is.

"A nap...really. Wow, he really wants to avoid you, huh." Sam smiles, but it fades as he really takes in Bobby's expression. "What happened?"

"You're not going to like Sam...and I'm sure you had a rough enough day as it is." Bobby really doesn't want to add to Sam's stress.

"Just tell me, I'm freaking out a little here." Sam replies.

"Okay...well, after you called...I went out to talk to your brother. It got a little heated, and he ended up having a panic attack. I brought him inside, got him his medication. He wanted to lay down for a bit. I told him I'd wake him when supper was ready, which is whenever we're done talking. Give him a few more minutes." Bobby says, hoping this doesn't upset Sam.

"Thanks...for taking care of him Bobby." Sam replies, smiling a little. He doesn't know what he would do without Bobby.

"You're not...mad?" Bobby asks, surprised.

"No...well, a little surprised. I'm guessing tough love Bobby took a back seat today?" Sam instantly feels so much better. Sure everything is still a mess. But being here, at Bobby's, it makes it all a little bearable.

Bobby smiles. "Yeah. I guess it did. Seemed like the thing to do."

"Thanks Bobby. I really appreciate it." Sam's smile falters when he realizes that...if Dean had a panic attack, that means his bottle is two pills shorter now. "Um...Bobby, when you gave Dean his medication. How did the bottle look, I can't seem to remember...was there seven, or eight when I gave him some the other night."

Sam seems to start thinking out loud, trying to remember how many were left after Dean's attacked at the side of the road the other day.

"When did he last have an attack?" Bobby asks, hoping that Sam can't remember because it was a little while ago, not because his mind is on too many things.

"Right before we got here, that's kind of why we're here. I didn't know what else to do. It was...it was bad. Well, I guess now you know huh? You've seen one yourself." Sam replies.

"Ya, but it wasn't that bad, well...I guess I can't really judge. It's the first one I saw. But I think his mind was somewhere else...like he was having a hard time keeping something at bay." Bobby says softly, hoping it doesn't upset Sam.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm sure he's hating himself right now for it too. I know he hates it when I see him like that. Usually tries to lock himself away in the bathroom, or leave. But after we finished the zombie hunt, and well I guess with you outside...he didn't have anywhere to go." Sam drops his gaze to the table, He's really starting to wonder how they're going to start repairing all the damage...especially when the demon is still out there and he's causing part of the problems.

"There were only a couple pills left, maybe four or five at the most. Is that the last bottle he has?" Bobby asks, hoping that if that's the case, that that's something Sam took care of while he was in town.

"Ya...that's the last of it." Sam feels tears stinging his eyes. How long is four to five pills going to last? A day or two if it's bad...a few days at best.

"Is that why you went into town? Well...besides the wrist." Bobby asks.

"Ya...that's why I went to Doctor Kane. But it was a bust. He wouldn't give me a new prescription for Dean." Sam admits sadly, a few tears spilling down his cheek.

"What? Why not?" Bobby asks, surprised.

"Part of the job I guess...and I would agree with him if it was regarding anyone but Dean." Sam wipes the tears from his face and takes a deep breath. He's okay. No need to cry now.

"I don't understand." Bobby doesn't know a thing about the medication Dean's on.

"It's maybe the fact that Dean isn't taking the medication as prescribed, and that he isn't seeing anyone. A psychiatrist would be able to monitor him better, make sure he's on the right medication. He says the doctors at the hospital, they gave him something to temporary relieves his panic disorder. But that he was also supposed use the numbers that were given to us as well. That Dean's likely getting addicted to the medication, and just use it as a quick fix. That it doesn't help." Sam pushes his emotions back, and focuses on the facts.

"Okay...makes sense I guess. But don't worry okay. We'll figure this out. We'll figure out another way to help your brother." Bobby assures him.

"Okay, um...I guess I'll go see if Dean's hungry. You really shouldn't have to deal with two of us being emotional challenged today. Besides...I'm kind of exhausted myself. Might just pass out after dinner again. Which, is awesome that your taking care of us like this. You really didn't have to do all this." Sam smiles, not sure how to repay Bobby for everything he's done.

"Don't mention it Sam, I really don't mind. It's a nice change. Now go get your brother, supper's ready." Bobby smirks as he gets off his chair, moving back towards the food.

Sam smiles and makes his way out of the kitchen. But his good mood doesn't last. He really doesn't know how he's brother's going to be when he finds him. This never happened around Bobby. He only hopes that his brother didn't take it too hard, and slash himself up. Sam's not sure he can handle that. Especially if it's noticeable. But knowing his brother, he would hide it.

Sam gets to Dean's room, and takes a deep breath. He knocks softly on the door, before pushing it open. Dean's back is to the door, and he's still curled in a ball with a cover wrapped around his body.

"Dean...you awake?" Sam asks softly, not wanting to startle his brother.

There is no reply right away, and Sam wondered if he should wake his brother. He probably needed the rest, and he doesn't look to be in any distress. Not trapped in a nightmare, hopefully not anyways.

"Yeah." Dean finally replies softly.

Sam almost misses the reply, it was so quiet. Dean's voice didn't sound wrecked or raw, as if Dean has spent the last few hours sobbing his guts out. No, his voice was quiet...void of any emotions...weak. Sam cringes a little. What happened when he was gone?

Maybe it's just because his brother had another panic attack, and needed to take his pills. Maybe that's why he sounds like this. But Sam gets the feeling it's more than that. His brother almost sounds defeated, sad...even depressed. The panic attack might be a factor, but Sam thinks the fact it happened in front of Bobby is probably a bigger issue.

"Bobby has some supper ready. If you're hungry." Sam says softly, not sure if he should stay; try and help his brother, or if he should leave him alone.

"No, I'm not that hungry Sammy." Dean replies, hating how weak he sounds...almost like he reverted to a small child.

Dean tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes the images and voices where there waiting for him. He's spent the last hour or so, however long it's been, crying silently. Trying to will the memories away.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Sam asks, knowing his brother probably hasn't.

Dean just wants to curl into a tighter ball, but then Sam might never leave. He hasn't eaten, but he's not sure he could keep any food down. And he's not sure he wants anything in his stomach if he ever gets to sleep.

"Dean, you need to eat something." Sam walks around the bed, and kneels down so that he's eye level with his brother.

Dean's eyes are red and puffy, so Sam knows he's been crying. Dean wonders what Bobby talked to him about. Or if the attack was about the rape, despite whatever his brother and Bobby were talking about.

Sam's never seen his brother like this, and that's saying something. He's seen and well, heard a lot this past year; Dean having a panic attack, crying, and completely broken into sobs. But never this. This breaks something in Sam, and he wants to cry.

Dean has this far away look in his eyes, completely depressed. And Sam wonders if this is what his brother looks like sometimes when he thinks no one will see him. After he was attacked, after Sam left him in the hospital, nights at Bobby's after their Dad died when Sam and Bobby where in bed, and who know what other situations.

Sam is saddened, and a little freaked, because why is his brother allowing him to see him like this. Sure, the doors to Bobby's guest rooms don't lock...but still.

Sam doesn't know what to say. And Dean must realize that he messed up, because he blinks quickly a couple times before looking at his brother.

Dean hates the pain he sees in his brother's eyes. He knows he's the cause. But he's tired. He doesn't have the energy to slap on his fake Dean Winchester grin. Dean also isn't hungry, in fact...he might be a little nauseous.

"I'm really not hungry Sam. I actually don't feel too good." Dean says softly, mentally cursing himself when he sees tears shinning in his brother's eyes.

"You're not just avoiding Bobby?" Sam asks, trying to offer his brother a smile.

Dean smiles slightly, he thought this would be painfully awkward. But Sam's being very understanding.

"Naw, turns out it's pretty hard to hide from the old man at his own house." Dean's smile grows a bit when he sees his brother relax at his words.

"Could have told you that." Sam chuckles lightly, feeling a little better. His brother isn't pushing him away, or trying to hide. It's a step in the right direction.

Dean would deny this later, but this was nice. His brother, here, like this. Not pushy, but clearly understanding what he needs. Maybe one day everything will be better.

"How 'bout this? A compromise. I'll go down, have supper with Bobby. Give you a few more minutes. Then, I'll bring you up some soup. How about that?" Sam asks, not really wanting to leave. But Sam knows he can't expect Bobby to take care of them both. They aren't kids anymore. Sam needs to take care of himself in order to properly take care of his brother. And Sam's starving.

"Just like the old days, but reversed." Dean replies, his smile becoming slightly saddened. He'd never allow himself to be in this state, not before...unless it was due to an injury from a hunt. But today, Dean's okay with Sam playing older brother. The pain, and the fear, and the sickness is already starting to ease.

"Nothing wrong with letting someone take care of you. Isn't that what you used to tell me growing up?" Sam says, smiling as Dean groans. Sam admits, Dean probably never thought the words he spoke to a stubborn-rebellious-questioning younger brother would ever come back to him. Sam sees now that he probably wasn't easy to take care of growing up.

"Yeah, just don't expect it to last forever." Dean groans, hating how amused his brother is. But in a good way. Pre-Stanford, pre-drama age.

"You're starting to sound like me." Sam replies, knowing he gave his brother a lot of attitude growing up.

"Naw, I'd tell you to bite me." Dean smiles back, feeling some temporary relief rush through his body. Relaxed...if only for a moment.

"Alright. Rest. Get better. I'll bring you up some soup." Sam says, laughing lightly at Dean's words, as he stands up to leave.

"Get Bobby to cook it, I don't want crap soup." Dean replies, knowing there'd be nothing wrong with Sam making him soup.

"Fine. I'll be back with some Bobby made soup." Sam is a little relieved, but this is only temporary. He knows that. Tomorrow will be a different story.

"Thanks." Dean replies softly as Sam leaves the room.

When Dean hears the door close, he curls himself in a slightly tighter ball. He shivers at the loneliness that only took seconds to consume the room, and himself.

Sam makes his way downstairs, where Bobby already has two plates set on the table. Bobby stands by the counter with the third, as if waiting to see if the plate will be placed on the table or in the fridge.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asks as he walks over, and places the plate in the fridge.

"He's not feeling well. I'm going to bring him up some soup after I'm done. You do have soup, right?" Sam rambles, as he takes his seat.

Bobby laugh, and sits down across from Sam. "Yeah, I have soup."

"Good." Sam sighs, before he starts digging into the food Bobby made.

"Is it because of the meds?" Bobby asks.

"What?" Sam asks, caught off guard by the question. He was focusing on finishing his supper, so he could get back to Dean.

"You said Dean wasn't feeling well...just wondering if it's about the medication." Bobby clarifies. He's never seen what the medication does to Dean...but Bobby gets the impression it has to do with every thing else.

"I wish I could blame it on the medication...but no, I don't think that's the case. He's just struggling a lot lately. I think um...I think when Dad died, it kind of put a huge dent in his walls. Making it harder for him to hide. I'm just going to let him relax tonight, hope he gets some rest." Sam says, moving his food around his plate as he talks.

"That's good. You boys can stay here as long as you need. Take the time this time. Okay?" Bobby smiles at Sam, and they both let the words float in the air over their dinner. Both not saying anything more, just focusing on the food on their plate.

Once they both finish their supper, Bobby helps Sam get some soup. Sam explains he can't help in the making of the soup, and sits back down at the kitchen table to watch. They make light conversation, Bobby knows something is different about tonight. Whatever this panic attacked caused, right after the one Sam told Bobby about the other day, must have drained something from Dean. And Bobby hasn't seen Sam this relaxed and smiling in a while, so he likes it.

Sam brings the bowl of soup up to Dean's room. He's quiet when he enters, just in case his brother managed to get to sleep. Sam sets the bowl down on the nightstand next to the bed. Dean is in the same position, his back is to Sam.

"Dean? You awake?" Sam asks softly.

Sam doesn't get a response right away. Maybe he should let his brother sleep.

"I brought you some soup. And I swear, I didn't go near its creation. It was all Bobby." Sam says, a little louder. Trying to keep the same light mood that his brother seemed to respond to earlier, despite the nagging pit of concern in Sam's gut...telling him something is very wrong.

Sam is about to leave, when Dean slowly stretches out in the bed, rolling onto his back. His eyes still hold an empty sadness that breaks Sam's heart. But there's a small smiles on his brother's face.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean replies softly as he rolls over.

Dean wants to have this. Only for tonight and tonight only, Dean is willing to throw away his rules and old habits that he usually holds onto with an iron grip.

This feels weird to Sam as well, not sure why his older brother is allowing all this to happen. But if it's what he needs to get his inner demons to back off for the night...Sam's fine with the change.

"Just don't spill it all over yourself and makes a mess. That's my line. I am not changing your bed sheets." Sam says with a grin as he picks up the soup.

Dean laughs as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. "Alright."

Dean takes the soup from his brother, and Sam sits at the foot of the bed so he can face Dean.

As Dean eat his soup slowly, the two talk...about almost anything that's a safe topic. Sam talks about school, and the weird people he'd meet, crazy professors, and hell at the dorms his first year at Stanford. Dean enjoys hearing about Sam's moment of normalcy, asking any random and obscure questions he could think of, not surprised when his brother didn't have too many insane hook-up, drinking, or party stories.

Dean tries to return the favor by talking about Sam's four year absence. But it wasn't nearly as long, and there was this hint of pain in Dean's voice not matter what he talked about. He told Sam about his first solo gigs, about some other random hunts that held either some interest or amusement. He only briefly mentions Cassie, only very briefly. And Sam never pushes, on any story.

Old hunts, memories, and friends are talked about. The subject changed by either brother the instant they near anything remotely uncomfortable.

Dean was able to get through most of the soup, Sam finishing it off when he saw Dean wasn't touching it anymore. Once Sam realizes the time and that they've been talking for hours...Sam didn't realize how happy and relaxed he'd been. All up until he yawns. That seems to break the spell. Sleep would mean this would end, and tomorrow would be back to the usual stress and pain.

Dean notices his brother's yawn, and even though every emotion is telling him he needs his brother right now, he's starting to fall back on old habits. Feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Hating that just a simple, relaxing conversation, barely helps in the long run. One break...one yawn, and the silence threatens to consume him. This means Sam's tired, he's going to go to bed, and leave Dean alone again with his thoughts and the memories.

"Sorry." Sam says as the yawn passes.

"It's okay, you can't help it. But hey, don't stay up because of me...your tired, go to bed." Dean replies, hoping his brother doesn't catch any of his pain and dread for what his words mean.

"I am tired, but not because of this...it's nice. Talking about all this. With everything...I kind of forgot we never really caught each other up...swapped embarrassing and awkward stories." Sam smiles, notices the change in his brother. It kind of confuses him.

"Ya...it was nice." Dean replies softly, his eyes dropping to his hands on his lap.

"Hey, Dean. What's up?" Sam asks, instantly concern.

Dean starts playing with the blanket on his lap, not sure what to say to his brother. He could just lie, they're in a good mood right now. No reason to think anything is wrong. So why should Sam question it. But he can't bring himself to lie, not now. He's suddenly so exhausted. The other night, he passed out with no dreams. But tonight, he knows he won't be that lucky.

"Dean? You okay?" Sam asks, hoping they haven't already reverted back to the steel walls between them.

"Ya, I'm okay. You should go to bed." Dean replies, voice a little shaky. He still doesn't look up at his brother.

"I'd maybe believe if you didn't find that blanket so fascinating." Sam waits, but Dean doesn't respond. Sam lowers his head a bit, trying to get a better look at his brother's face. He can tell his brother is struggling.

"Hey, come on, it's just me. You can look at me, can't ya?" Sam offers his brother a small smile if he decides to finally look at him. But Dean doesn't.

"I just...I don't want to go to sleep just yet." Dean replies, hoping it doesn't sound as pathetic to his brother, than it does to himself.

"What do you mean? Come on Dean, I'm not asking for some huge emotions revelation here or anything. I just want to help you out, okay? Why don't you want to sleep yet?" Sam asks, hoping he's not losing his brother so soon. Hoping Dean will keep the walls down, even if it's just for tonight.

"It's nothing. I'm just not tired." Dean replies. He wants to bashes his head into the headboard behind him as he feels tears starting to burn into his eyes. He tightens his grip on the blanket. He can't do this, can't break down again. He's been doing it too much lately. What is wrong with him.

"I don't have to go anywhere Dean, I can stay right here if you need me to." Sam says, getting the impression that his brother doesn't want to be alone right now. But would never in a million years ask him to stay.

"I'm not a child, you don't have to share my bed, and keep the big bad monsters away. I'm just not tired." Dean replies, trying to bring some anger in his voice, but failing.

"Dean come on, look at me please." Sam pleads, not wanting this to be happening.

Dean takes a deep, and calming breath before looking up at his brother. Sam hates that he sees tears building in his brother's eyes, but he doesn't say anything. He keeps his face neutral, offering his brother a small smile. Every instance like this, Sam feels like he's falling without a parachute. Never knowing what's going to happen with his brother, and if he'll be able to help.

"I don't want to sleep, okay. Happy?" Dean fights getting the anger out, needing to push away the tears. But the pain, and the sadness is winning out.

"Happy? Why would that make me happy Dean? Why is it that we can have this nice hours of conversation about stuff and then...now you're snapping me? What have I done? Why can't...growing up, you took care of me no matter what. If I was sick, or hurt, or if I had a nightmare, or if I was sad or angry. Why can't the reverse be done now?" Sam asks, tears building in his own eyes.

Dean instantly feels like shit when he sees the tears building in his brother's eyes. He did that...he keeps doing this? Why is it so hard?

"Sorry...you know this isn't easy for me." Dean replies, eyes instantly dropping to the blanket again.

"Did you sleep last night okay?" Sam asks, letting his brother avoid his stare. If it makes it easier, he'll take it.

"Ya...but that was partly because I took some more of my pills right before going to bed. They kind of knocked me out, that never happened before. And before you ask, can we please not have that conversation yet...not tonight. Okay." Dean says, still staring at his blanket. A couple tears escaping down his face.

"Okay, I won't ask. But...is there a reason you think tonight will be different, even without the drugs?" Sam asks, trying to get his brother to give him a little more to work with.

"I still can't talk about it Sam. I know that makes me weak, and pathetic, and stupid, and..." Dean starts getting more upset, and angry...but at himself. He gets cut off by Sam though.

"Hey! Hey! Dean, stop!" Sam says forcefully. Sam moves up the bed, until he's sitting next to his brother. He gently but forcefully puts a hand on his brother's should. He doesn't want to crowd him, he doesn't want his brother to have a panic attack. But he needs to get through to him.

"Sammy...." Dean's not sure what he wants to say. What can he say. Tears fill his eyes to the rim, but he refuses to let them fall.

"You're okay, alright. There's nothing wrong with asking for a little help somethings, okay? It doesn't make you weak, or pathetic, or stupid. You can take all the time you need to get there, but you are none of those things. You're my big brother. You are the strongest person I know." Sam says strongly, wanting to pull his brother into a hug but he stays back.

"I just...I tried to sleep...when you were out. But I couldn't." Dean admits, making sure to breath.

"I get it, I do. After Jess died, every time I closed my eyes, those images...the fire..." Sam's voice cracks, and a few tears roll down his cheeks. "Always afraid that I'd get caught in the nightmare, and the pain when I fell asleep. But you never judged me, or forced me to talk."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do here." Dean admits, a few tears breaking free. Dean quickly wipes them away.

"We're going to sleep. I know we're not kids anymore, and I know you'd make jokes about it if the situation were different. But I'm going to stay, okay? And if you get trapped, I'll wake you up. I won't make it awkward, and I'll give you wanted you need if it happens. But you need to at least try to get some rest, okay?" Sam asks, hoping his little speech isn't going to make his brother push him away, or revert to making fun of his chick-flick moments.

"Okay, just...don't hog the covers....and stay on your side of the bed." Dean says, offering his brother a teary smile before sliding down onto the bed.

Dean doesn't wait for Sam to say anything more, he curls himself back into a tight ball, wrapping the blanket around him. Sam's smile fades as he brother gets himself comfortable. He knows the tears are probably now running freely down his brother's face, now that they are not facing each other. But instead of making a big deal of it, Sam lays down on his back and stares up at the ceiling. Hoping they both get some rest.

Dean closes his eyes, his face wet with tears. Maybe it was the conversation and the light banter with his brother, but when his eyes close nothing happens. Just darkness. Dean focuses on what they talked about, all the happy memories. At least while he could still control it all.

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The next morning, Sam wakes up still laying on his back. He stretches out, and that's when he remembers he's not in his bed and not alone. Sam looks over to see his brother still in his tight little ball. Sam didn't hear anything, or feel any struggle next to him. So Sam hopes that Dean had a peaceful sleep. Because he doesn't know if he can live with himself if he slept through something after everything he said to his brother.

Sam slowly gets out of bed, picking up the empty soup bowl. He doesn't want to leave his brother, but he kind of wants to get some coffee. Maybe talk to Bobby a bit before Dean wakes up, because Sam gets the impression Bobby will already be up. He always seems to be up before him.

Like predicted, Bobby is already in the kitchen. Sam walks over to the sink, and puts the bowl down. He then pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Everything okay?" Bobby asks, as Sam sits down across from him.

"Ya. Um...it was nice, actually. We just talked, about a bunch of stuff. But there's still a lot going on, you know. But I think being here helps, taking a break from the hunt." Sam replies, starting on his coffee.

"That's good. He still asleep?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah...he most have been tired. I uh...I stayed with him. He still wasn't feeling too well, so..." Sam replies, not sure why he feels weird admitting that. Maybe it's too close, he doesn't want to mess anything up. He knows what last night was about, and he can't explain that to Bobby.

"That's okay, I kind of figured. So...got any plans for today." Bobby asks, glad things worked itself out last night.

"Um...no, not really. Just relax...I um..." Sam starts to feel a headache coming on. It's been awhile since he's had one, and maybe it's just all the stress.

Bobby notices the change in Sam, and he sets down his coffee. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just...uh, a headache. Probably just stress." Sam replies, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I might have some tylenol, or advil, or something." Bobby offers.

"Naw...um...damn. It's, okay...maybe something would help." Sam replies as the headache intensifies. Sam feels a fear pricking at the back of his neck. This all seems too familiar.

"Sam?" Bobby asks, concerned. Noticing the even more drastic change in Sam.

"Fuck!" Sam curses, clutching his head. _Why so early in the morning_, Sam curses.

Images flash through Sam's mind, quickly. An African-American man talking on his phone. Entering a store. Blood. Screams. Panic. A shot fired.

Sam drops his head to his hands, leaning heavily against the table. He always hates this part. The pain and the images, the graphic violence. It makes his sick, on top of the pain in his head.

"Sam!" Bobby shouts, as he rushes towards the younger man. "Sam?"

Images continues to assault Sam's mind, and he can't make it back to Bobby.

"Dean!" Bobby shouts up towards the bedroom. "Dean! Sam needs help!"

Upstairs, Dean's in a peaceful sleep. It was touch and go a bit during the night, but he actually got to sleep. He woke up when Sam left the room. Dean's not sure if it was the sound of the door, or if he suddenly knew he was alone.

Dean just lays on his back, relaxed. Trying to get back to that place he was last night, with is brother. Trying not to focus on unwanted subjects. That is until he heard Bobby scream his name. He got out of the bed as fast as he could, and ran for it.

Dean finds Sam still holding his head, as Bobby quickly brings him some tylenol and a glass of water.

"Sam? What happened?" Dean asks, panicked.

Dean rushes to Sam, and that's when he sees it. The look in his brother's eyes. He's seen it before. _God damn it._

"What did you see?" Dean asks softly, knowing Bobby will hear regardless. He's going to ask questions anyways.

"What's going on?" Bobby asks.

"Give me a second." Sam pleads, taking the tylenol and water from Bobby.

Dean and Bobby take a seat at the kitchen table, waiting for Sam to catch his breath. Dean looks over at Bobby, a little concerned. He never wanted anyone else to know.

"Sam? Dean? What's going on?" Bobby asks.

Sam looks up at the two men, and he can see that his brother is worried and a little agitated.

"Dean, it's fine. We can trust him. You know that." Sam tells his brother.

"I'm just worried about you Sam." Dean replies. It's been awhile since this has happened, and now everything rushes back to him. His father's words. But he pushes them away...this isn't the time.

"Okay. Can you get my laptop Dean? It's in my room." Sam asks. He knows it might piss him off, but they need to get to work now. And he'd like a minute or two to talk to Bobby.

"Sam." Dean warns.

"It'll be fine. Just get the laptop. I don't know where we're going. I need to know. So I need the laptop. Unless you want us to go to the Roadhouse. Talk to Ash, see if he's seen any activity with the demon. Because we both know this is usually connected to that bastard." Sam replies, needed his brother to get into the game.

"No...I'll get the laptop. We aren't going to the Roadhouse Sam, too risky." Dean nearly snaps.

"Fine. Then let me talk to Bobby a bit." Sam remains calm, needing his brother to do the same.

Dean gives Bobby a look before he leaves the room. Sam knows he's not going to be gone long.

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby asks, the second Dean's out of the kitchen.

"Okay, this is...I have visions." Sam replies, deciding to get right to the point.

"Visions?" Bobby asks, not sure if he understands.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Dean runs to Sam's room. He knows he should trust Bobby, and he does. But he hates this. Hates that they don't have enough time to deal with one problem, before anyone is thrown at them. After last night, Dean was actually okay with taking a couple days to rest at Bobby's. But looks like that's not going to happen.

Dean grabs his laptop and rushes back downstairs.

"Ya, and we think it's connected to the demon that killed our mom. I mean...it's fits. Jessica, Max Miller, and then in Salvation." Sam explains as Dean enters the kitchen.

Bobby looks over at Dean as he sits down.

"I'm sorry Sam. How can I help?" Bobby asks. It's a lot to take in, but it doesn't change much. Sam didn't ask for this. Whatever was happening, it was bigger than that.

"I need to figure out where we need to go, Dean and me. I know you want to help Bobby, but I'd really like you to stay here. If it gets messy, we'll call. Okay? I just...I don't want you in the middle of this if it turns out to be something bigger." Sam pleads, knowing Bobby will probably fight.

Sam explained as much as he could when Dean was gone. He tried to remain neutral, despite the pain the conversation brought. Explaining how it all started with Jessica, and her death. Max Miller, and the connection they had to each other. And the events in Salvation. He make it quick, and stuck to the facts.

"I don't like it, but if that's what you want." Bobby replies.

"Okay, so what did you see?" Dean asks, as he opens Sam's laptop and pushes it across the table at Sam.

Sam starts working on his laptop as he explains the vision to his brother and Bobby.

"I saw a man walking down a street, he's on his phone. It's all jumbled, but he...he crosses the street." Sam starts, closing his eyes every once in a while to try and get a better picture.

"He passes a bus, the company name on the bus is Blue Ridge. He then enters a gun shop. Talks to the clerk...they seem to be friends. He seems so relaxed, so normal. But he...Dean...he shots the clerk, and then himself." Sam finishes, looking at his brother.

Dean can see the pain in his brother's eyes. These vision always seem to have that effect on him.

The room is silent. Bobby wants to ask so many questions, but he keeps his mouth shut. Sam continues to work on the computer, looking for the bus company and it's logo. Trying to match it up to the one he saw in his head.

After a couple minutes, Sam finds it.

"Got it...Guthrie, Oklahoma." Sam states, looking up at his brother.

"You sure you don't want me tagging along?" Bobby asks. He's never really been on a hunt with just the boys. And he's let them go off and do their own thing a couple times now after their Dad died. But he still needed to at least make the offer.

"Thanks...but we'll be okay." Sam replies. Sam then looks at his brother. "Maybe we should go by the Roadhouse."

"What? Why?" Dean asks, confused.

"Ash could probably hack the system, find out if anyone...you know...that fits the description of people like me...if something like me lives in the area." Sam stumbles over his words.

"We don't need to go to the Roadhouse for that Sam, you can do that. You've hacked into systems like that all the time. You don't need Ash. I don't want to go there, there's too many hunters. I won't risk someone finding out about this Sam." Dean demands.

"Finding out what? About the vision...that...what?" Sam knows his brother is right...but he still hates it.

"Come on Sam." Dean pleads, not wanting to get into an argument.

"Fine. You pack up...I'll see what I can find." Sam snaps, focusing back on the computer.

Bobby looks over at Dean, but neither say a word to each other. Dean just gets up, and leaves the kitchen.

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Sam was able to find one name...all without the help of Ash. Might have been faster to drive a little out of the way to use Ash's help...but he knew why his brother was against it.

So now, they are on the road again...sooner than either of them had anticipated. Going towards a hunt that is bigger than they wanted to jump into. Leaving a very concerned Bobby behind.

Sam explained to Dean about Andrew Gallagher, and everything he was able to find on him. Once they get there...Sam's sure that Andrew is responsible...where as Dean isn't convinced. They talked to a girl named Tracy, which got them here. Standing by Andrew's van.

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet." Dean says, clearly impressed by the paint job. Dean thought this was going to be tough, but this hunt is started to feel comfortable.

Dean looks over to Sam, and sees that he's upset. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sam shrugs. He's a little ticked at how relaxed his brother is. The walls are clearly already up, and the masks set into place.

"Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon. What's going on?" Dean asks. Feeling a little guilty about how he's acting, but he needs this.

"This Andrew Gallaher...he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. The demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people." Sam replies, really wishing they weren't on this case. Focusing on the demon is something they should be doing, but Sam would much rather focus on other things.

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent." Dean knows this sucks...knows the demon has crap-ass timing. It's too much, too much to deal with.

"My visions haven't been wrong yet." Sam snaps.

"What's your point?" Dean asks, not sure he's following his brother right.

"My point is, I'm one of them." Sam replies.

Dean hates that...because it's too close. Too close to all the words their father spoke into his ear like poison before his death.

"No, you're not." Dean says, not wanting to believe it for a second. Never going to happen.

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me. Remember, or are we still not talking about that night?" Sam replies, angry.

"What about it?" Dean asks, hoping his brother only wants to talk about the demon, and nothing else about that night.

"Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks! Maybe we're all supposed to be..." Sam doesn't get to finish because he doesn't really know how...and then Dean cuts him off.

"What, killers?" Dean asks. No, he can't go there...it's too soon. It's too much.

"Yeah." Sam replies, knowing it's not fair. How can he dump all this onto his brother, with everything. Why did this vision have to happen now. He knows this is only going to push them back once they're done this hunt.

"So, the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds, is that it? Oh, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones!" Dean snaps, wanting to seriously rip this damn demon apart.

"No?...Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things." Sam knows it's a cheap shot, but he needs his brother to at least consider the possibility. See the possible threat.

"Well, those things were askin' for it. There's a difference." Dean replies, turning away from Sam.

They find Andrew exiting an apartment building, dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe. They follow him Andy as he walks down the street, taking note to some strange activities...like a man just handing over his coffee to him. But soon they follow to where he meets Dr. Jennings...the man from Sam's vision.

"That's him. That older guy, that's him. That's the shooter." Sam explains desperately to Dean.

"Well, you keep on him, I'll stick with Andy. Go." Dean replies, as he watches Andy and Dr. Jennings walk off in different directions.

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Sam has a lot more luck then his brother. He's able to stop Dr. Jennings from doing exactly what his vision told him he'd do. At least...he thinks he was lucky. That is until Dr. Jennings walks right in front of a bus, and is killed.

Dean on the other hand, is starting to not like this Andy kid anymore. It's not bad enough that he now has his car, but how he got it. Mind controlled it right out of him, and Dean hated that feeling. Having his control tampered with like that...it makes him sick.

Dean had to push through it though, and get to his brother. They all felt guilty about losing people on the job, but this...whenever it was connected to a vision. Sam felt that much more responsible, because he knew about it before it happened.

After finding the Impala, and Andy again. Sam gets another vision, this one not even a warning to what is happening seconds after he has the vision. Sam wants to blame everything on Andy, but Dean's right...how could it be him. They were with him.

Dean wants to apologize to his brother about the things he said while under Andy's mind control, but there hasn't been the time. And that conversation might be pushed into territory he's unwilling to enter. He can't tell Sam yet, about what their father said. Especially not now...not when Sam seems so certain that all these people like him are going to end up...he can't have that conversation.

While Dean figures out what he can about the victim...Holly Becket. Sam explains to Andy a little about his visions. When Dean gets back...they all know they need more. They need to figure this shit out, and fast.

The three end up at a county office. Sam and Dean don't waste any time. They start looking through some paper work, Sam on a computer, as Andy talks to an officer.

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here." The officer explains.

"No, it's all fine, all right? Just go get a cup of coffee, all right?...These aren't the droids you're looking for." Andy says, as he walks to officer away.

Dean smiles. Andy is making this a little bearable, he seems to be a decent kid.

"Awesome." Dean replies, still smiling as he continues to look through some papers.

"Got it." Sam exclaims, just needing this to be over.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, surprised. That was fast.

Andy walks over to Sam and Dean, now that the officer is gone.

"Yeah. Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother." Sam explains, not sure how to really break it to Andy any lighter.

"Does anyone have a Vicodin?" Andy asks, stunned.

"Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them." Sam replies, he still doesn't know what's happening. But he's sure Andy has nothing to do with it now.

"Yeah, but I didn't kill 'em" Andy exclaims, needing Sam to understand.

"We believe you." Dean replies, looking over at his brother, hoping this is all enough for him to see the truth too.

"Yeah." Sam replies. He knows now it's not him...but if he's right, how does he explain to Andy all the secrets about his life.

"But, uh...who did?" Dean asks.

"I think I've got a pretty good guess...Holly Becket gave birth to twins." Sam explains.

Sam hates this case, but he has to admit...Andy's power...pretty cool. If they can all get through this. It might be helpful, that is if the case can end relatively smoothly. And Andy doesn't hate them in the end.

After doing a little more research...Andy is still in shock.

"I have...an evil twin." Andy says...not sure what else to say. It would be funny if it weren't the truth.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. You went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate." Sam informs Andy and his brother.

"Andy, how you doing? Still with us?" Dean asks, knowing all this must be a lot to take in at once. Just knowing you have a brother is one thing...but than add all the psychic crap. Dean's surprised at how well Andy's handling it all.

"Um...what was my brother's name?" Andy asks, not sure how to really answer Dean's question.

"Here...um, Ansem Weems." Sam looks up at Andy, but he just shakes his head. Clearly the name doesn't mean anything to Andy. "He's got a local address."

"Wait, he lives here?" Andy asks, now a little more freaked out.

"Let's get a look at him. There's a picture coming over from the DMV right now." Dean explains as he takes the paperwork from the fax machine.

Dean looks over the picture, and is slightly shocked. He knows Andy is friends with this kid, or at least used to be a co-worker. Sam and Dean only talked to this kid briefly, but he seemed enthusiastic when talking about Andy.

"I hate to kick you while you're freaked." Dean finally says as he hands the paper over to Andy. "Take a look at that."

Andy takes the paper from Dean and looks at the picture. Everything than goes to hell.

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It's late by the time they're on their way to talk to Ansem, he wasn't at the dinner. But before they could head towards the address in the system...Sam gets another vision. The plus side of it, they now know where Ansem is. The downside, there's an innocent caught in the middle.

When they get there, Sam knows Dean's going to hate it, but he can't come with them. Dean is no good to them in this situation. Sam's surprised when Dean doesn't really argue, and Sam hopes that Dean isn't going to do anything stupid.

It was over relatively quickly, but it seemed to last forever. Andy saved everyone's life by pulling the trigger, killing his brother. Dean watches Sam take charge of the situation, Sam not knowing it was also a close call for his brother as well at the top of the hill. Dean also doesn't realize it now, but Sam only stayed down on the ground because of the conversation he was hearing. That the demon visited Ansem. That he's the reason all this happened.

Dean collapses against a near by tree, needing to collect himself before getting back to the car. He's freaked. This was close.

Dean never considered suicide to be an option. It's a cowards way out of the world. And he'd never to that to his brother. And what they do is too important for him to just take himself out of the equation just because of a couple bumps in the road. But when he had no control over his mind or body, he was hit with this sense of calm and relief. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. But when Ansem was killed, and Dean was released...he suddenly felt sick. Were those thoughts and feelings all because of Ansem, or were some of them his?

Dean makes his way to the car right as Sam does. Sam notices his brother, but doesn't say anything. He just wants everything to be over. Cops and paramedics are on their way. Andy's with Tracey, but she won't go near him.

Dean was worried his brother was going to comment on the fact that he clearly didn't stay with the car. Or maybe that he's carrying a very large gun. But obviously there were bigger issues. Dean's still a little shaken from what just happened, his hands shaking slightly.

"You okay?" Dean asks. He didn't see his brother get hit, but he knew he was on the ground for some reason.

"Ya. Tracy didn't hit me too hard, I'll be fine." Sam replies, wanting his headache to just go away.

"Tracy hit you?" Dean asks, surprised.

"Ya, it's not like she had control over it or anything." Sam replies, glad everything is over. But now he just has more questions.

"Poor girl. That's really got to mess up with your head. Hope she's going to be alright." Dean says, looking over in the direction he knows Tracy will be.

"Ya." Sam replies, suddenly a little concerned. He was so wrapped up in what was going on that he barely stopped to think about how it was all effecting Dean. Having his mind taken over the few times Sam was aware of was probably hard on his brother. Someone who needs to constantly be in control.

"Cops and paramedics are on their way. You might want to put the gun back in the trunk." Sam says, knowing his brother isn't going to like that. But he's not sure what else to say. He's brother seems a little off.

"Okay, then we should get out of here." Dean replies, looking back at his brother for a moment before walking over to the car.

"I told Andy we'd stick around for a bit. I think he's a little freaked." Sam follows Dean to the car.

"Makes sense. It's a lot to try and take in. But Sam, we can't be here when the cops get here. Come on, you know that." Dean replies, putting the gun away. Wondering why Sam thought it would be a good idea to stick around.

"We'll be fine. Andy's going to talk to the cops. We'll be okay." Sam jumps as Dean slams the trunk closed. He's expecting Dean to argue. But when Dean faces Sam, he looks tired and defeated.

"Alright. Sounds good." Dean replies, leaning onto the car.

It doesn't take the paramedics and police very long to get there. The paramedics take car of Tracy, as Andy talks to the cops. The sun starts to peek over the trees, and Sam didn't realize it was this early in the morning. They've been on the case practically non stop since they got into town, only stopping to check into a hotel, paying for a couple nights, and dropping some stuff off.

Sam and Dean stay off to the side, the police working around the crime scene while others talk to both Tracey and Andy. Sam and Dean just watch the scene in front of them. They are both quiet. And for Sam, watching how off his brother seems, and how Andy talks to the cops. Sam realizes a solution to one of his problems. Now all he has to do is figure out how to talk to Andy without Dean, how to convince Dean that they should stick around for a bit before hitting the road, and how to explain all this to Andy without revealing too much.

"Look at him. He's getting better at it." Sam comments, finally deciding to speak as they continue to watch. Andy continues to talk to the cops, while Tracy waits in the back of an ambulance.

"Ya." Dean replies, not sure what to say to all this. It's all a mess.

"Looks like I was right though." Sam says, not sure if he should really bring this up so close to the scene...so close to Andy. But Sam knows they are out of ear shot. Besides, Andy's too focused on telling the cops some bogus story.

"About what?" Dean asks.

"Andy. He's a killer after all." Sam replies, hating it. Hating what's happening...how everything with the demon just gets worse and worse.

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved..." Dean stops, he can't have this conversation here. He can't tell Sam want happens just yet.

Sam looks over at his brother, wondering what made his brother stop talking. What happened when he was gone?

"He probably saved you too." Dean says before Sam can ask anything. Dean wants to tell Sam what happened, just not now. Because there is so much he is still struggling with.

"Right...but bottom line. Last night, he wasted somebody." Sam replies, deciding to ignore Dean's slip up for now.

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was pushed into that." Dean tries to defend what happened. Because Sam can't be right about this...he just can't.

"Webber was pushed too, in his own way." Sam realizes that his brother still doesn't know what happened. It's been hours since the event, but neither has given the other details. And Sam doesn't want to talk about it just yet. "Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death."

"What's your point, Sam?" Dean asks, getting frustrated.

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Maybe that's what the demon's doing...pushing us, finding ways to break us." Sam continues, still not sure if right now is the best time to even have this conversation.

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it." Dean replies, suddenly feeling that much more exhausted. Like he could seriously pass out right now, and not worry or care about what dreams might await him.

"You know, I heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am." Sam snaps, wanting his brother to just stop denying what's happening. Sam can admit that all this has crap-ass timing, but when has anything in their lives been simple?

"That was mind control! It's like being Roofie'd, man, that doesn't count." Dean defends.

"What?" Sam replies, surprised. It's totally an old Dean kind of thing to say, which should relax Sam. But at the same time, denial of anything right now, really isn't helping.

"No, I'm calling a do-over." Dean says, not wanting to sound childish, but no longer caring.

"What are you, seven?" Sam asks.

"Doesn't matter. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch, and kill it." Dean replies, looking over to see Andy saying goodbye to the cops he was talking to.

"Yeah. I guess." Sam notices too.

Andy approaches Sam and Dean, looking exhausted.

"She won't even look at me." Andy says sadly, looking over at Tracy. Tracy doesn't even look in the general direction of the boys.

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up." Sam replies, feeling bad for Andy.

"No, it's...this is different. I never used my mind thing on her before...before last night. She's scared of me now." Andy admits.

"Andy, I hate to do this, but...we have to get out of here." Sam says, knowing his brother wanting to leave the second the cops showed up. He hands Andy a piece of paper.

"Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you call me up." Sam says, feeling really bad about ditching the guy.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Andy asks, clearly overwhelmed.

Dean's about to respond, but Sam takes a step forward. Sam turns towards Dean.

"Dean, could I talk to Andy for a minute. I'll meet you at the car." Alright, so Sam admits it's not the smoothest way he could have done that. But his conversation with Dean before Andy came over should help, not make Dean too suspicious. And he'll figure out what to tell Dean later.

"Alright. See ya Andy." Dean replies, looking at Sam a little oddly. But he leaves regardless.

Once Dean's out of ear range, Sam turns to Andy.

"Everything okay Sam?" Andy asks, noticing the change in Sam.

"Ya, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Sam says. They already talked about what Ansem said after he was killed, and they both knew Tracy was going to keep her distance. Andy already promised to call if he had any freaky ass dreams with a man with yellow eyes.

"You're lucky my powers don't work on ya, or I'd be forced to call bullshit and get you to quit beating around the bush." Andy replies, smiling.

Sam can tell Andy's still a little shaken, and upset about everything. But Sam's glad Andy seems understanding.

"I kind of feel bad asking for a favor after everything that just happened." Sam admits.

Andy takes a deep breath, looking over at Tracy one last time. The paramedics are wrapping up, getting ready to leave. Taking Tracy with them. Andy then looks back to Sam.

"Look, the way I see it. All this shit was going to happen no matter what, with or without you being here. But because you were, Tracy's alive. She'll probably never talk to me again, and hate me the rest of her life...but it's better than the alternative. So I figure...ask away. I'd be more than happy to help. Andy replies, noticing Sam relax...only a little.

"Look, Dean can't know about this." Sam pleads, hating that he's letting someone else behind a few of Dean's walls.

"I figured with you sending him back to the car." Andy replies, offering Sam a smile.

"Ya, okay. Um...see, something happened to Dean. Well, his life has never been that easy, mine either. But he's been having panic attacks. He's slowly starting to talk to me about things...but I'm sure you were able to tell that my brother is a little closed off." Sam starts, hoping this works.

"Ya, I noticed. It doesn't surprise me thought. I've only had one really bad day in my life, and I'm kind of freaked. Mind you, it was a massive disaster of a day...but I understand. You don't have to go into details." Andy replies, not really able to wrap his mind around what a Winchester life must be like.

"Okay, well...a while back my brother and I were in the hospital..." Sam's not sure he can bring up the whole story. He still hasn't told Bobby everything yet. And he really doesn't want to breakdown in front of Andy. So he clears his throat and continues.

"Anyways...he ended up having an attack at the hospital. They gave me a prescription for Xanax, and some numbers of a couple local therapists. He hates drugs, but he took them and they help. But he'd never talk to a shrink. His medication is almost out. And the one therapist that I talked to won't sign a new prescription to me for my brother because he said it's dangerous. Dean's not taking the medication as prescribed, and he's not seeking psychiatric help. But my brother needs them. I swear, he's not a junkie. I just need them to last until he feels he can let me in and we can start fixing things." Sam rambles, hoping Andy believes him.

"Okay, I'm sorry. That sucks...you know...I could get Dean to talk to you, you know." Andy suggests, but he knows the answer. He never knew things were that bad, he couldn't really tell. But he's seen how the brother's are with each other.

Sam gives Andy a look, a little surprised by the suggestion. But Andy continues before Sam can properly react.

"But I know that's not what your asking. Look, the pharmacy in town should be open by now. You guys staying at the motel?" Andy asks.

"Ya, we got a room, but we didn't use it. We'll have to pick up a few things, and checked out." Sam replies.

"Okay, um...give me thirty minutes. I'll get you a few bottle of the stuff. What dosage?" Andy asks. He doesn't know a lot about this kind of stuff, but he does know they all come in different dosages. And he sure doesn't want to get the wrong one.

"Point five milligrams. Thanks. Text me on my cell when you're there, and I'll meet you at the main lobby. I'll check out at the same time." Sam replies, happy. He still knows the medication doesn't fix anything, and Doctor Kane is right about so many things. But this is what's important right now.

"Alright, I'm going to get a ride with one of these fine officers. You better get back to your brother." Andy doesn't wait for Sam to respond before he walks towards the cops that are still in the area.

Sam lets out a sigh of relief, a small weight off his shoulders. But now he has to explain why he needed to talk to Andy alone. This should be fun.

When Sam gets back to the Impala, Dean's leaning against the trunk. He doesn't look angry, so Sam takes that as a good sign. But his brother looks off, almost a little worried.

Dean's spent the whole time trying to wrap his mind around everything that has happened, and what it all means. He's a little calmer, but he's still a little shaky from Ansem's mind control trip. Dean is surprised Sam hasn't noticed yet, but is a little relieved. Dean is still not sure what he wants to say to his brother just yet.

"Andy going to be okay?" Dean asks, feeling he could actually sleep right now...that, or actually talk to his brother. But for the moment, Dean's going to focus on other things.

"Ya, it'll be tough for a while I'm sure, but I think he'll be okay." Sam replies, stopping to stand in front of Dean. He knows what he's going to tell Dean, and he knows his brother isn't going to like it.

Andy passes them in a cop cruiser. He waves as he passes. Dean smiles, and waves back. Dean turns a little to watch the cop cruiser drive off.

"Good, I'm glad. He seems like a real decent kid. I'd hate for this to fuck him up." Dean says, still looking off in the direction that the cop cruiser drove off to.

"Dean? You okay?" Sam asks, starting to get very concerned. Dean seems so spaced out. What happened?

"Ya." Dean replies, turning back to look at Sam.

"Look, I'm sorry about sending you back to the car." Sam starts. Sure Dean didn't ask, so maybe he doesn't care. But Sam doesn't want to start keeping things from Dean.

"It's okay...you needed to talk to Andy alone, it's fine." Dean shrugs, not really in the mood to ask Sam why. He doesn't really have the right to push at topics lately.

"I just didn't want you to freak out in front of everyone. I'm sorry." Sam says, knowing he didn't quite phrase that right. Sure, he wanted to tell all this to Dean when they weren't surrounded by that many people. But he wasn't waiting because he thought his brother would make a scene.

"What are you talking about? Why would does it matter, when Andy could have told them all to fuck off." Okay, Dean was a little more awake now. A little more pissed.

"I know, but I didn't want to tell you like that, alright. I'm a little freaked myself, okay. I just wanted to wait until now to tell you about what happened, okay?" Sam replies, not having to fake being a little upset.

"Okay, it's fine. What happened?" Dean asks, his anger instantly deflated.

"Look, I did want to make sure Andy was okay. But...Ansem said something last night, that's why I stayed on the ground after Tracy hit me." Same replies, feeling terrible. They had put the demon in the back of their minds lately, trying to deal with so many other things. This here, it all sucked for timing.

"What happened?" Dean asks again, pushing everything else he's feeling aside. His brother is more important than his pathetic issues.

"Everything Ansem did, it's all because of yellow eyes." Sam states, decided to get right to the point.

"What? Because of the psychic crap. We don't know how that son of a bitch is involved in all this. We can't start jumping the gun, that isn't going to help." Dean replies, voice already rising. Resisting the urge to push himself off the car, and get in his brother's face. He feels like he could lose control any moment now. And it's probably not the anger that's going to win out. That would definitely get Sam to start asking more questions.

"No, I know, okay. I know we're still screwed when it comes to the demon. That's not what I meant." Sam rambles quickly, wanting his brother to relax a little.

"Um...okay. Then what are you talking about Sam." Dean snaps, getting a little impatient. He's a little relieved, but he still has no idea what's going on.

"Yellow eyes talked to Ansem in his dreams. Told him the truth, about his biological mother and that he had a brother." Sam explains.

"What? What about Andy?" Dean asks, surprised.

"No, nothing. It's like the demon knew which one of them to push to get this result." Sam replies, not really sure what it all means.

"Well, I hope it messes with whatever his 'plans' are, now that he's dead." Dean replies, feeling a little sick. Whatever yellow eyes plans are, they aren't looking good.

"Ya." Sam sighs, not sure what any of this could mean.

"Let's get out of here." Dean says, pushing himself off the car.

"Alright. Do you want to rest up here? Use the room? Or do you just want to hit the road?" Sam asks. He's tired, but he doesn't really want to stick around.

"Let's just get our shit, check out, and get the hell out of this town." Dean replies.

Dean searches his pockets for his keys, his hands still shaking. After a moment, Dean pulls out the keys. They nearly fall out of his hands, still shaking. He stumbles to hold onto them before throwing them at Sam.

"You drive. The faster we get on the road, the better." Dean replies, turning his back to Sam as fast as he can.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asks, noticing for the first time that his brother's hands are shaking. How long was that happening, Sam wonders.

Dean doesn't answer, but walks over to the passenger side of the car. He tries to open the door, but it's locked. _Fuck!_

"Can you unlock the doors. Come on Sam, let's get out of here." Dean pleads.

"Not before you answer my questions." Sam replies, walking around the car to the driver's side. Looking over the hood of the car, to his brother.

Dean's avoiding Sam's stares, but he knows his brother is now across from him. Staring at him. But he can't have this conversation here. He needs to think...needs to clear his head.

"Look, I just want to get our stuff...maybe even take a shower. And then I just want to get as far away from this place as we can. We're both tired, and last night sucked. I just...I can't talk about it right now, but...I want to. What happened last night...it's freaking me out, okay?" Dean finally looks up at his brother.

Dean's eyes shine with unshed tears, and Sam doesn't know how to respond. He has no idea what could have happened last night to get his brother in this state. So he just nods, and offers his brother a smile.

"So, can you unlock the door." Dean asks.

"And when we're on the road?" Sam asks, not sure if that would be considered a pushy question. But Sam wants to know if this is something he's supposed to ignore, or if his brother actually plans on talking about it.

"I'll tell you what happened, I promise." Dean replies, hating that he never seems to catch a break. When did he suddenly become a girl.

"You don't have to talk about it...I don't want to force you. But I'll listen if you do want to talk about it." Sam says, hoping his brother understands.

"You're not forcing me Sam. I do want to talk about, I just...need a little more time to clear my head." Dean replies.

"Okay." Sam nods, unlocking his door.

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Once they get back to their room, Dean mumbles something about taking a shower before disappearing into the washroom. Sam grabs their bags and heads out to the car, throwing them into the trunk.

Before heading back inside, Sam pulls out his cellphone. He got a text message from Andy a couple minutes ago, it must have been a little before they got to the hotel. Sam walks back into the motel room, needing to let his brother now.

The shower is still running when Sam enters the room again. Sam walks over to the bathroom door.

"Dean?" Sam calls out.

Dean's in the shower, hot water running down his body. He's tracing light patterns over the scars on his arms. It's been a few weeks since Sam learnt the truth, and Dean tried not to put anything sharp to his flesh. So the cuts are practically healed. But after everything that happened today, Dean's mind seems to find it's way back to this. This escaped, and the need.

Dean's jolted out of his thoughts as he hears his brother call his name. How long has he been in the shower?

"Ya?" Dean replies, hoping his brother isn't checking up on him.

"I'm just going to check us out. I already got all the bags back in the car. Do you need anything?" Sam asks.

"Naw, I'm alright. I'll be out in a minute. I'll meet you at the car." Dean replies, trying to calm his breathing.

"Alright." Sam waits a moment, wanting to make sure his brother is okay.

Sam took all their stuff to the car already, so he knows...well, he hopes Dean didn't have anything sharp on him that he wasn't aware of. But he can't ask. He can't push at that...can't push at anything. That's what makes everything, what happened today, that much harder.

Sam quickly leaves the room, not sure how much longer his brother's going to be. He finds Andy waiting in the lobby, but walks up to the front desk first. He pays for the room, and gives over the key.

Sam then approaches Andy. He's not worried about having this conversation in the lobby...if you can call it a lobby. If the clerk gets suspicious, Andy can take care of it.

Andy got Sam three bottle, and Sam's grateful. Sam knows it might not last, but it's better than nothing.

Sam apologizes, but he needs to get these into the trunk and into his bag before Dean gets to the car. And Andy understands, agreeing to stay where he is until he knows Dean and Sam are gone. Sam says his goodbyes before leaving Andy behind once more.

Sam makes his way to the car, and luckily Dean's no where to be seen. He quickly puts the pills into his bag, and closes the trunk. Sam then waits for Dean by the car.

It's less then ten minutes before they are on the road, Sam driving...no idea where they are going.

"So I was thinking..." Dean finally says, after the car was silent for close to an hour. "Maybe we can head back to Bobby's. I mean, we're heading in the right direction. We should make it in a couple hours if the traffic's good. If you need me to take over at all, just let me know."

"You really want to go back to Bobby's?" Sam asks, surprised.

"Ya, I mean...I know you wanted to take a bit of a break after everything that...after the...you know. And well, we weren't there for very long. And now...with everything that happened. Might be nice to take a few days off. Try and forget everything that happened tonight. Try and not let the stress and worry about the demon mess up our next hunt. Make sense?" Dean asks, not looking at his brother. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, looking out the front window.

"Dean what happened last night? I know you didn't stay by the car. Something happened...didn't it?" Sam asks, looking over briefly to try and gaze his brother before re-focusing his attention on the road.

"Look, can we maybe wait and do this at Bobby's. I don't want you crashing the car or anything, and I don't really feel like stopping and having another panic attack at the side of some random highway." Dean replies, a little harshly.

Sam sighs, ignoring his brother, and he pulls the car over.

"Sam what are you doing? Did you not here me?" Dean pleads, not wanting to do this again.

Sam puts the car in park, and turns to face his brother.

"We don't have to get out of the car...but this way, no reason to worry about us crashing. Now come on, you said you'd tell me what happened once we got on the road. We're on the road, and I really don't want to push. But you're starting to scare me." Sam says, trying to remain calm.

"It's just...I don't know how to...last time I tried to talk about this stuff, it didn't go so well." Dean shutters, remembering how he had to lock himself in the bathroom and balled his eyes out. Hell, he still can't even just say the words...cutting...the word holds many meanings. But in this conversation, and earlier with Bobby, Dean can't seem to say it.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, really wishing his brother would just look at him, instead out staring out the window.

"Look, I know you hate the visions and all the death you have to see. But sometimes you help people...that family back in Salvation, who knows what would have happened to them if it weren't for you. We may not have figured out it was them that demon was after in time to help them on our own. But Andy and Ansem...they're abilities...they might seem like a gift. Able to control people, with only the power of a suggestion. But to be on the other side of it, to have someone force your mind open like this. It really fucking sucks." Dean says softly, and calming. He knows Sam's going to comment on the fact that he's staring out the window, and not looking at him. But he needs to wrap his head around all this. And the conversation is only going to get harder, his already are already back to shaking as if the shower didn't help calm his nerves at all.

"I'm sorry Dean, I can't imagine how fucked up that must be...and feel. I shouldn't have used what you said because of Andy against you, I'm sorry." Sam replies, feeling like shit. He relaxes against the seat, staring out the window as well.

"I know, it's okay. And ya, it sucks. And I wanted to be pissed at him, for the car, and getting me to talk like that. But Ansem...he was something else." Dean admits, knowing now he's getting into the tough part.

Sam sits up and turns himself in his seat so that he's looking at his brother again. When did Ansem mind control Dean?

"What?" Sam asks softly, slightly shocked.

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to remain focused. He really doesn't want to have another panic attack so soon after the one he had at Bobby's. He hates them...they really suck. But what happened on top of that hill, it scares the crap out of Dean just to think about it. Losing control in any capacity sucks...and it seems like Dean can't catch a break. Can't get over one moment of helplessness before another is forced onto him.

"I got up a hill, so I could look down at what was happening. You were already on the ground. Andy and Ansem were talking about something. I got my shot lined up, if I needed to take the kid out, you know? But he knew I was there...I don't know how he did, but he knew." Dean pauses, not wanting to let the floodgate out. Tears already building in his eyes.

"Dean?" Sam asks, after his brother's quiet for a moment.

"He got me to turn the gun on myself." Dean admits, wiping away a tear that makes its way down his face, past his defensive wall.

Sam notices the movement, but doesn't really need to ask what happened after that. Andy killed his brother, and not only saved Tracy...but also Dean. But clearly, this was affecting Dean, and Sam's now a little surprised that he's talking about it.

"I swear I'm not suicidal Sam, I'd never to that. But God, before Ansem was killed...before I got control again. I felt nothing...but this sense of calm and peace wash over me. Like all I had to do was tighter my hold on the trigger, just a little, and everything would be better." Dean continues, his voice cracking slightly.

Sam feels tears building in his own eyes at his brother's words. He never thought his brother was suicidal...recklessly dangerous and emotionally damaged, yes. But not suicidal, he never considered it. Even with the cutting, it never crossed Sam's mind.

"I felt sick, afterwards. But those feelings...right before, they were still there. I want to believe that he put them there...he had to. Because I swear, I would never do that. Never." Dean pleads, finally looking over at Sam. Needing him to understand.

Sam nearly breaks down right there. His brother looks so broken, and defeated. A few tears running down Dean's face, but Sam can tell he's holding a lot back.

"I believe you Dean. And I'm sorry. What Ansem did, those thoughts...and those feelings...if you don't think they were yours, then they weren't, okay." Sam replies, needing to help his brother through this. Why can't they have a simple hunt anymore, Sam wonders.

"But with...you know, what I do? You've never thought...I mean..." Dean can't seem to get the words out, and he drops his eyes. He still remains turned towards his brother, but he can't look at him in the eyes anymore. Doesn't want to see when the caring turns into something else, disappointment.

"Dean, I know I was being difficult during this one because of everything with the demon. But I never forgot about everything else, okay? This stuff with me, and other psychics, and the demon. It scares the hell out of me, but you're right. There is not much we can do, until we learn more. And I'm sorry for forgetting somethings before. I was so focused on Andy." Sam rambles, feeling guilting about what happened.

"It's okay, I understand. It all scares me too Sam." Dean replies, wondering if this means the conversation is over. If only Dean was that lucky.

"But this...I know you think you'll tell me something one day and I'll be disappointed in you or something. But it's not going to happen. Especially tonight. What you said, it's fine. Okay?" Sam asks, hoping his brother will just look at him.

Dean is trying so hard to focus on his breathing, and focus on keeping all the tears at bay. All this was so new. He was used to years with their father, where they just don't talk about shit like this. But now...now that it's just him and Sam, things are different.

"And I know there are still things we need to talk about, with the cutting." Sam says, noticing his brother flinch at the word.

Dean hates the word, and hates the he flinched. The movement dislodging more tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it anymore. We can just head to Bobby's." Sam replies, trying to focus his vision. Blink away the tears.

"I trust you Sammy." Dean says softly. He hasn't over heard many conversation with Sam and Bobby, but he does know that him not talking to Sam, it hurts his brother.

"What?" Sam asks, confused at the statement.

"I know you probably think I don't trust you, because I won't talk about things. But I do...I trust you. It's just...it's hard to do this. Hard to talk about stuff...I hate you seeing me like this. But there are still things I can't talk about, not because I can't trust you with it. But because I'm not ready." Dean continues, feeling his body start to shake a little more at the reference. It's all been pushed under the surface lately, but it's still there. Right there, waiting.

"I know. Thanks for explaining it to me Dean. I know you trust me. I just feel helpless sometimes. I just want to help you." Sam replies, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I haven't done it since...I swear. I don't know how much longer I can wait. But since you've found out, I haven't done it. I promise." Dean says, not sure why he had to say that. Great...now this conversation is never going to end.

"I believe you. And I'm not saying we have to talk about it anymore. Thank you for telling me about what happened with Ansem. I can just get us back on the road, or we can talk somemore. But we don't have to talk about the cutting if you don't want to. I mean, there's a lot that I still want to know...and I'm curious." Sam says, not sure if he's making any sense.

Curious? Dean looks up at his brother, breathing a little harsher. What does he mean, curious?

"Dean...I just mean, I'm curious as to what your arms look like. But I'm not going to force you to show me. You move at your own pace, okay." Sam continues, seeing the panic in his brother's eyes.

Dean lets out a long breath, he's not sure why he got so freaked out. Of course his brother wants to see the damage. He only did it a couple times after getting out of the hospital, and before Sam figured it all out. But now, if Sam saw...some scars and lines would hold new meaning. Sam might find out about his lies.

"Why?" Dean asks, not sure why his brother would want to see. Dean doesn't want to push him away.

"It's not about not trusting you, if that's what you think. I believe you when you say you haven't done it since I found out. But...I mean, back at the hospital, I saw some old scars on your arm. They were a little faded, but recent. But I didn't think that's how they got there, so I didn't really take the time to really look at your arms. But now...I mean, they're probably healed. And I'm probably not making any sense. It's okay." Sam rambles, not sure why he's saying all this. He shouldn't ask to see.

When they were kids, Dean wore t-shirts. And now that Sam knows Dean started it all at such a young age...Sam's not sure what to think.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sam asks, before Dean could even think about a response to what Sam just said.

Dean feels his control slipping. Why couldn't he just quit after he told Sam what happened. Why did he have to bring that trust crap into it.

"Ya." Dean replies softly. His eyes back to looking at anything by Sam. Staring at his hands, that are still shaking.

"The whole time, even when you younger. Have you only cut your arms? Or other parts of your body?" Sam asks, hoping this isn't too pushy. But Dean seems to be in a sharing mood, kind of. Sam can see the shaking, so he nows he has to be a little careful.

"I guess, just the arms, why does it matter?" Dean asks, trying to sound angry, but only coming off as weak and pathetic.

"Just wondering. Dean, I'm sorry, I'm making your uncomfortable. We can stop. I just...whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here. If it's just small talk, or about why you do it...doesn't mater what, I'll listen. Okay?" Sam needs his brother to understand before he starts the car back up and they head back to Bobby's.

"You wouldn't hate me? If you saw?" Dean asks, not sure why he's debating this. Why he's so open. The tears are so close to just flowing down his face, this would surely break the hold.

"I could never hate you. But you don't have to show me if you won't want to." Sam replies, despite the fact that he's aching to now. To see just how bad it is.

It's still daylight, so it will be easy to see everything. Dean wishing it was night, so that most of the old scar would be less visible. But apparently this day, and this hunt just wanted to fuck with him.

Dean just nods, not trusting his voice anymore. Can he really do this. Really show his brother.

Dean takes a deep breath, finding the hem of his long sleeved shirt. He knows his old scar on his shoulder will also be visible. He really doesn't want his brother to know he lied, but maybe Sam already thought of that possibility.

Sam can see how his brother is struggling, his hands shaking at the bottom of his shirt. He wants to take it all back, tell Dean he doesn't have to do this. But he stays silent.

Dean slowly pulls the shirt over his body, and over his head. He keeps his arms in the sleeves, not sure he can take that final step. Why is this all so fucking difficult?

Sam noticies the scar on Dean's shoulder, and the story Dean told. Sam now wondering if it's the truth, or a lie. He wouldn't blame his brother if it were a lie, that was a while ago. Long before Sam even thought his brother might be hurting himself.

"I'm sorry." Dean says softly.

Sam tears his eyes away from the scar to look at his brother. Obviously Dean decided to look at him, and saw what he was staring at.

"It's okay, I'm not mad. It's okay if you lied about it." Sam replies quickly, not wanting his brother to get upset.

"I didn't want you to know then...I still wish you didn't know." Dean says, his gaze dropping back down. Staring at his arms that are still hidden in his shirt.

"It's okay." Sam replies.

Dean shakes his head, feeling the tears building dangerously close to the end.

"Dean...you don't have to do this. I don't want you upset, I hate seeing you like this. I'm sorry I said anything. You don't have to do this now." Sam says, not wanting his brother to have a panic attack.

"It's okay, I need...I'll be okay. I won't have an attack. This isn't about..." Dean stops, thinking he said too much. But when he looks up at his brother, Sam just looks understanding. As if maybe he knows what triggers some of the attacks.

"I know." Sam replies, calmly.

Dean looks back down to his arms, taking another deep breath before pulling them out of the shirt. Most of them are healed, but you can tell which ones are new. Which ones weren't their when Sam saw his brother's arms at the hospital.

Sam doesn't know what to say now, and he gentle reaches out a hand. Not sure if he should touch his brother, but he wants to get a better look.

Dean focusing on breathing, as Sam takes a hold of his left arm first and then the right. Looking over his arms, clearly seeing more than Dean wanted him to see. See cuts that were made even back then...when he was learning the limits and how to cut so not to leave any permanent scaring, but still give the relief he needed. Or the scars that are there because Dean just lost control, like after his freak out with Cassie.

Sam then sits back in his seat, not sure what to say. And when the contact is lost between them, something seems to break in Dean. Dean starts shaking his head, feeling he screwed everything up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry." Dean mumbles as the tears start to freely flow down his face.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, Dean." Sam moves awkwardly closer to his brother, hoping this doesn't have a repeat event of a couple days ago.

It's hard, being in the car, and trying to comfort Dean. But Sam manages to pull Dean into a hug. Dean stiffens slightly, but eventually relaxes into the hug. He doesn't return it, and he doesn't allow himself to completely break. But the tears won't stop falling.

"We'll figure this out okay, but I'm not mad, or disappointed. It's going to be okay." Sam says, trying to calm and reassure his brother.

They only sit like that for a moment, Sam knowing his brother hates the contact. Sam decides to pulls back, and he sees the tears still running down Dean's face.

Sam wipes a hand over his face, clearing the few tears that fell. He then picks up Dean's shirt and passes it to him.

"You going to be okay?" Sam asks, hating that he pushed the conversation to this point.

Dean can only nod, not wanting to speak. Not wanting to take his grip off himself, he's too focused on keeping the sobs at bay.

"Thanks for showing me." Sam says, wanting to just curl up and cry. Some of the scars were light, but some were angry and more apparently. And there were quite a few new lines across Dean's arm, that must of been after they got Dean out of the hospital.

Sam's not really sure what to do now. What seeing his brother's arm did? It didn't really help, but at least now Sam knows a little more.

Dean quickly puts his shirt back on, and then collapses against his seat. Turning onto his side, so his back is to his brother. He knows Sam saw the tears, but that doesn't mean Dean wants him to see any more fall.

"Get some rest, we'll be at Bobby's before you know it." Sam says, watching sadly as his brother retreats into himself.

He's glad that they are heading to Bobby's. Glad his brother is accepting the break. Maybe this one will be long enough to allow some scars and pain to heal. Maybe now his brother will stop running from everything. Maybe they can deal with some things before running into another hunt, and hiding everything away.

Sam just hopes that he won't screw anything up. Everything is getting that much harder.

**TBC**

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**REVIEWS** are highly appreciated. I was worried about posting this chapter, nervous. So please let me know if it worked.

So sorry again for the wait. Hope to update a little sooner next time, I hope. Thanks.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

**Review Response**:

M: Thanks for the awesome review. I'm glad you're liking the story. And I love Bobby too, love putting him into as many chapters as I can.

KillBunny: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you're liking the story so far. I know it would be better if I had a beta reader. I probably will get one if I decide to post this story on livejournal when it's complete.

Also thanks to enviousxbeauty, rholou, deans princess, alinoy, Marchia43, greendaypumpkin, Death-Muncher, and rholou for your awesome reviews.

I am so so so sorry for the long wait. I won't make excuses for why it took so long, just hope you guys don't hate me too bad for it. I promise to lock myself away for a couple days to get the next one done and out to you guys much much faster. I promise.

Again, I self-edited. All mistakes are my own. I will try to get a beta-reader soon for my stories. (Also had some issues formatting this chapter, so I apologizes about that too.)

Hope you enjoy Chapter 18. Thanks.

SNSNSNSNSNSNS

**CHAPTER 18 - USUAL SUSPECT**

To say the ride to Bobby's was uncomfortable would be a huge fucking understatement.

Dean kept his back to Sam the entire trip, but he never slept. He didn't even try. Dean didn't want to risk a nightmare, and his emotions are totally out-of-whack right now. The right time, not for Dean thought, but for his nightmares to strike. And then well, Dean would never get his big brother role back.

Dean can already hear the faint whispers, and the pain. He feels sick. He needs...he needs what he can't possible have. He needs to take it all away. He needs to silence the voices, and the laughter, and the humiliation, and the hate. But now...now that Sam knows. Now that Sam is always around, making things...harder. How can Dean take the edge off, how can he have a moment...a second of calm?

The trip to Bobby's was just as excruciatingly long for Sam. Sam couldn't call Bobby. He had no idea if his brother was sleeping or not. And there was no way he'd risk making his brother feel bad for this. There are so many things he wants to say to Dean, but he stays quiet. Sam's not sure if what happened today was a step forward, or a set-back.

It's dark out by the time Sam pulls into Bobby's. There are some lights on, so at least Bobby's home.

"Dean?" Sam calls out softly, not wanting to wake his brother if he did manage to get some sleep.

"I know." Dean replies, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He sounds wrecked, and pathetic.

Sam hates this, hates that Dean's most likely beating himself up because of what happened. Sam's not sure if this is the best plan, but it's lose lose. He doesn't want his brother to think this is a test, because it isn't. He wants to show Dean that he trusts him.

"Why don't you grab our bags, I'll go make sure Bobby's still up, and didn't just forget to turn off his lights." Sam says, trying not to make this awkward.

Dean's confused, why would his brother let him get the bags? He hasn't ever gotten the bags, not since Sam found out about the cutting. But Dean doesn't want to make a scene. He's too tired, so he turns onto his back to look at Sam.

"I'm going to tell him you think he's going senile in his old age." Dean replies, plastering on as a convincing grin as he can.

Sam doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry. He knows it's an act. So he'll go along with it, for his brother's shake.

"I didn't say senile, you did. I just said forgetful. That has nothing to do with his age. Hell, you forget where you put your keys sometimes already. Is that because your getting old there, Dean?" Sam smiles when he gets a laugh out of his brother.

"Once, I forget where I put my keys one time and it's going to follow me to my grave." Dean smiles, getting out of the car.

Sam gets out of the car, looking over at his brother. Dean already looks upset and tired as he makes his way to the trunk. Sam doesn't say anything more, just makes his way to Bobby's front door.

It doesn't take long for Bobby to answer the door, clearly in hunter mode. But he instantly softens when he sees Sam.

"Sam, what are you doing here? Everything alright?" Bobby asks, clearly worried. He looks towards the Impala, and is relieved to see Dean, in one piece by the looks of it.

Sam notices the slight relief on the older man's face when he spots Dean. But Sam also knows that Bobby is anything but stupid. That he'll know Dean's the reason they're back yet again. Sam really hates that he had that vision. If he didn't, then maybe they would have rested up enough the first time, fix some things. But Sam also knows that Bobby doesn't mind, and Sam can't even begin to image how he can ever even begin to repay Bobby for all he's done.

"Would you believe me if I said everything was alright?" Sam asks, trying to put on a reassuring smile. But he's tired, and he has no reason to downplay this to Bobby.

"What do you think?" Bobby replies, looking concerned. Bobby loves the boys, and really doesn't mind them crashing at his place. But lately, every time they show up, it pains Bobby because he can see how much pain the boys are in, even without knowing all the facts. He doesn't need the facts to see somethings trying to literally kill these boys from the inside.

Sam doesn't know what to say to Bobby now. Every time they're here, it helps a little. But at the same time, he hates leaving Bobby in the dark. But there's no way in hell he'd ever betray his brother's trust, even to their closest friend.

Luckily Dean walks over, and Sam doesn't have to stress about what to say.

"Hey Bobby." Dean calls out as he leaves the Impala, and walks towards Bobby and his brother.

"Dean, good to see you boys again. Hope everything went okay in Oklahoma." Bobby replies, not sure what else to say as they all move into the house.

"It was a fucking train wreck, but we both got out in one piece, so..." Dean doesn't want to talk about the details. He just wants to rest.

"That's what counts I guess, getting out in one piece." Bobby replies, not really sure how to approach the subjet.

"Look, we won't put you out Bobby. We'll crash and be out of your hair by morning." Dean says, suddenly no longer wanting to be around the older man.

"Nonsense, you two can stay for as long as you want. I insist." Bobby replies strongly as they now stand in the living room. He can see the pain on Sam's face at what Dean said, and he can see how uncomfortable Dean suddenly looks.

"Well this sucks." Dean states softly, trying to ease the awkwardness out of the room.

Bobby laughs lightly, knowing it's what at least one of the boys needs. He'll deal with everything else later.

"Well you two look like you haven't slept since you left here, so why don't you two head up to bed." Bobby says, hoping the boys slept but doubting it.

"Sounds good. Thanks Bobby." Dean replies, grabbing his bag and heading upstairs.

Dean knows he should stay, say more. But he's too exhausted. And he doesn't want to make a scene in front of Bobby.

Sam watches his brother leave and something breaks. Tears start rolling down his cheeks, and he keeps his back to Bobby. He's shaking and he knows Bobby's probably aware of what's happening. Sam wants to calm down, but the weight crashed down on him, full force.

"Sam?" Bobby knows that Sam's struggling with something huge, and he's never known really what to do in situations like this before. But ever since John died, Bobby had to learn. And for these boys, he really doesn't mind. They're like family.

Sam, though, just shakes his head. He wants to just leave. But he doesn't want to do that to Bobby. But turning around would put Bobby in the position where he'd feel obligated to comfort him. And Sam hates that. Hates that he needs to lean on the older man. But then those thoughts make him think of Dean, and how he must feel. So he turns to face Bobby. Taking the comfort, needing to be strong. Knowing he needs to take care of himself if he can even think of trying to successfully help his brother.

"Sam." Bobby repeats, heartbroken at the sight in front of him.

Sam just shakes his head again, not trusting his voice. Not wanting to completely break. He wouldn't even know what to say anyways.

"As much as I want to know what happened. To know what has you this upset. I know you haven't slept since you were here last, right?" Bobby asks, not really needing an answer. He just needs Sam to calm down enough to be able to get upstairs and to bed.

Sam takes a deep breath and nods. He is really tired, but he can't seem to stop crying.

"Alright, so before you pass out here, let's get you upstairs, okay? Because you need to rest. And there's no way I'm doing all the work here, or you'll be sleeping on the couch. Which ain't that comfy, and I bet it's too small for ya anyways. So come on." Bobby says, relieved to see a smile, even if only for a moment, flicker across Sam's face at the mention of the couch.

Bobby approaches Sam, just wanting to get him upstairs. It's almost killing him to push the issue aside until tomorrow. But he just wants Sam to get a good nights sleep...on a bed.

Bobby picks up Sam's bag, and wraps his free arm around Sam's shoulders.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam cracks, his voice wrecked from all the tears and repressed sobs.

"It's okay Sam. We'll figure it all out okay. Tomorrow, after you rest." Bobby helps Sam upstairs.

Sam tries not to lean against Bobby as they make their way to the second guest room. But Sam can't help leaning into the support.

Once in the empty guest room, Sam collapses onto the bed. Bobby sets down the bag.

"You need anything?" Bobby asks.

Sam shakes his head as he wipes the wetness from his face. A few tears still slowly running down his face.

"Okay. Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything later, kay?" Bobby doesn't wait for a response. Sam's already getting undressed, so Bobby leaves.

Sam only has the energy to strip down to his boxers and collapse onto the bed. Exhaustion quickly wins the battle over his tears, and Sam quickly falls into a dreamless sleep.

Outsides his room, Bobby walks towards Dean's room. He slowly pushes the door open a crack, just enough so he can take a look inside.

Dean's already in bed. Bobby can't tell if he's sleeping yet though. Dean is curled up in a tight ball, blankets wrapped around him and his back is to the door.

Bobby closes the door, and heads back downstairs. He was planning on going to sleep soon, before the boys showed up. But now, Bobby's no longer tired.

SNSNSNSNSN

When Dean left Sam and Bobby, he quickly made his way upstairs and to the guest room next to the washroom. Dean could feel his walls beginning to strain. Only a matter of time, maybe even seconds, before they crack and break. Dean doesn't want to be near Sam or Bobby when it happens.

Dean quickly enters the room, and closes the door. He feels like breaking down, but he's not sure he'd be able to stop. And he doesn't want Sam or Bobby to hear him, and feel sorry for him. Dean's not sure he could take it. The looks of disappointment. Not now, not when it's taking ever strength of willpower Dean has not to cut. Not to make Sam that much more disappointed in him.

Dean focuses on staying calm and breathing as he gets ready for bed. He pulls off his clothes, stripping down to his boxers.

His arms now bare, Dean feels sick. He wonders if Sam hates him now for what he saw earlier. What he's looking at now. Dean snatches his shirt back off the floor, angry.

Once he's ready for bed, Dean still feels on edge. He still hasn't had the pill talk yet with his brother, and he'd rather not have to have it. But he needs those pills if he's going to have even the smallest chance of having a dreamless sleep tonight.

Getting the pills out of his bag, Dean then collapses onto the floor. He leans against the bed as he looks at the bottle. Only three left. He knew he was running out, but he really thought he had more time to figure everything out. How to ask his brother for more. How to admit that they work, and that he's starting to lean on them pretty heavily. Yet another addiction to ignore the pain. Yet another reason he's a failure.

Dean shakes his head, trying to stop the self hate. He then opens the bottle, throwing the pills into his mouth. Swallowing all three without any water. He'll talk to Sam tomorrow if these three pills help him sleep tonight. Because he can't...he doesn't want to live through that night again. He's not sure how many more of those nights he can live through.

Once Dean hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Everything seemed fine at first, but it was only a matter of time before he was drag in a drug induced nightmare. Why did he have to take those pills, he can't wake up. His father's voice mocking him.

"_You're so fucking pathetic. Did you forget everything I ever taught you? How could you let this happen?"_

_Dean's eyes snap open and his back in that room, back with the hands and the laughter and the pain. Every touch feels like burning fire. _

_Everything's a blur. He can't see anything. But he doesn't need to. He knows who's with him. He knows where he is. Tears quickly start to run down his face._

"_Daddy, please, dad?" Dean begs to the darkness._

_A hand wraps itself around Dean's throat, cutting off his air. Tears continue to fall from his eyes._

"_Shh Dean. Everything's going to be okay. Would you're daddy lie to you?" John's voice rings through the room._

_Dean closes his eyes tightly, wanting to be back at Bobby's when he opens them again. Wanting who ever's stopping him from breath would just leave him alone._

"_You're daddy doesn't want you anymore Deanie. He hates you and your brother, can't stand the sight of you. That's why you're here boy." _

_Dean's eyes snap open at the familiar voice. The hand no longer on his neck. And he's not in the room he'd thought he'd be in, but the one that holds the worst and most painful memories. The man heavy on top of him, grunting and moaning._

_Tears are running down Dean's face, and he just wants to wake up. Wants to stop the memories, the warped dream. But those pills he took before going to bed really were working against him this time. Keeping him captive in the pain._

_Dean's not sure how long the man painfully pounds into his body, mercilessly. Could be minutes, or it could be hours. The man's 'muscle bodyguards' no longer needed to hold Dean down. In this moment, Dean knows his father is right about him. He's weak, he just gave up._

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please. Daddy." Dean cries. Not sure if what he's saying is just a memory, or what he's feeling right now in this nightmare._

_The men ignore him. They continue to laugh, and enjoy the pain they are inflicting onto him. Dean just wants to stop the memory. He doesn't want to remember it all. He doesn't even want to re-live the moments that he does remember._

"_Please." Dean begs softly. "Please, stop. I don't like this." Dean says, almost reverting to his eight-years old self. His mind barely being able to understand the different._

_The men continue to laugh at Dean, who is now a shaking, crying, mess of a man in front of them._

"_Almost done baby." The man laughs, as he starts becoming rougher and rougher with each thrust. "Then my boys will want a taste of ya." The man smiles._

_Dean just wants to wake up, he doesn't want to see everything. It was bad enough when quick flashes of everything stabbed into his mind after he admitted the word rape out loud. Or when the nightmare continued after the incident with Gordon. But this...this nightmare, it's pretty much in real time. Every detail, everyone second. As if it's all happening all over again. And Dean can't handle that. Can't handle having the memory of the entire event. He knows he won't survive it._

"_This isn't real, this is a dream. You just have to wake up. Wake up. Please. Please, stop it." Dean cries as the man continues to rape him._

"_And here comes the waterworks. God, your such a disappointment." John's voice rings out into the room._

_Dean just shuts down. Lying numbly on the bed. Slightly trembling. An intense pain throbbing within him like a steady heartbeat. Tears silently running down his face as the man on top of him continues to grunt in sheer pleasure. Laughter continues to fill the room._

"_Please, stop...stop." Dean mumbles. He just wants the pain to end._

_After a couple more painful thrusts, the man shakes in pleasure and collapses onto Dean. Dean weakly tries to moves his arms to push the man away, but he can't move enough. His body is shaking, and he's still crying. The pain is too great, a pain Dean never thought he'd experience. He just wants to pass out, and wake up when they're all gone. But they won't let him sleep._

_The man pulls out, and steps away from Dean. A wide grin on his face._

"_What do you have to say to me now?" The man asks with a sneer._

"_Please." Dean pleads, brokenly. His voice barely above a whisper._

"_Aren't so tough now, are you...bitch." The man replies, clearly amused._

_There is blood down Dean's leg, and soaked into the sheets under Dean's leg and lower back. Dean can barely feel it, but he knows it's there. At least, he hopes it's only blood. He's never thought this would ever happen to him, not in a million years. But he knows what all this means._

_He's barely aware of one of the larger men getting off the bed, until he's standing in front of Dean. The larger man grabs a hold of Dean's cock. Dean almost wants to laugh, because he knows there's no way he's getting hard. No chance in hell. No matter what tricks these men try, no way he was being aroused. The pain was too great._

"_Stop. Please." Dean moans, not sure what to expect next. What more can they do to him, that the first man hasn't already done._

_The man laughs and releases Dean's cock. _

"_Damn." The man exclaims as he plunges a finger into Dean's ass._

_Dean doesn't even flinch, despite the new pain the single finger causes, putting pressure on his abused body._

"_He's going to be so torn." The man tells the others, as he works in a second finger into Dean's ass. _

_The man pushes his fingers in and out of Dean's body at a slow and torturous pace. Dean wants to squirm away from the pain, make it all stop but his body still won't move._

"_Do you think he can handle another round? He looks a little sleepy." The man laughs._

_Dean closes his eyes, just wanting it all the end. But the second his eyes close the larger man still on the bed slaps him across the face. Dean's eyes snap open, and he lets out a scream as the second man slowly pushes himself into Dean._

_The men laugh. "Didn't know he'd still have the lung power left."_

_The second man isn't as forceful or as brutal as the first, but it's almost more painful. Dean can see the other larger man working on himself. Dean can only hope he doesn't want a turn. Or maybe they'll decide to just leave him to bleed if he passes out again._

"_Please." Dean pleads, looking over at the man still on the bed with him. The only one that hasn't had a turn. But the man just grins, clearly turned on my it all._

Dean wakes from his hell gasping for air. The nausea quickly rising in his stomach. Dean is so disoriented that he falls out of his bed with a loud thud.

Dean stumbles out of his room, unaware of the things he knocks over or the noise he makes. He just needs to get out.

Luckily Sam's out cold, all the hunter instincts gone. The lack of sleep caught up to him. However, Bobby only just turned in a few hours ago. His instincts still in tacked. So when Dean crashes out of his room, Bobby bolts up, awake.

Dean barely makes it to the washroom before the nausea wins. Dean stays clutched to the toilet bowl, tears of pain and grief running quickly down his face as he expels the little food in his stomach, then he begins to dry heave.

Even though there is nothing left, Dean won't let go of the toilet bowl. Needing to get rid of the memories, the voices, and the pain. He's awake, but the nightmare is not forgotten. Stuck on repeat. But not revealing anymore than it did, which Dean is thankful for, he's not sure he can live through the whole event, the entire memory. He can barely survive when he remember little bits more than the first time.

The memories are sucking all the air out of his lungs, and then closing them off. Dean collapses onto the floor, the need to calm his senses is too large and overwhelming.

Outside, Bobby watches the struggle. Not sure what to do. He doesn't want to make this situation worst. And Bobby has no idea where Dean's head is at.

Bobby's concern only grows when he watches Dean quickly scramble to his feet. Bobby wasn't prepared for the boys visit. He just went to town hours before they arrived. Buying food, new razors, amongst other things. But the razors are in the washroom, and Bobby is beginning to panic. He holds himself up against the wall, really wanting to run into that room. But that may ruin any trust the younger man has in Bobby.

Inside the washroom, it doesn't take Dean long to find the razors Bobby didn't have any warning to hide. And if Dean was in the right mind he might just laugh at them, because he didn't think the older man shaved too often.

Dean struggles with the package, the razor blades all falling into the sink. Dean stares at the blades, almost defeated. His body itching to rid itself of all its emotional pain and memories. If only for a temporary moment.

Dean slowly picks up one of the blades and stares at it. His breathing coming out short and fast. He knows he's nearing a panic attack, and fast. And with no pills left, what other options does he have?

New tears start to run down Dean's face as he struggles with what to do, unaware that just outside the half closed bathroom door Bobby was having his own inner battle.

Dean's hands are shaking, it's hard to hold onto the blade safely. Which is funny. He doesn't want to cut his fingers, but he's about to shred his arm to pieces. Dean then thinks of Sam and the blade falls out of Dean's limp hand.

Sam's been great, no disappointment. Only concern and sadness that rips at Dean's heart every time he sees it on his baby brother's face. Because he put it there. But at least there's no disappointment, or is it a lie?

"Sammy." Dean gasps as his knees buckle under him.

Dean tries desperately to grab at a blade from the sink, but he only succeeds in getting one imbedded into his palm before falling to the ground.

Dean's lungs are on fire. He can't breath. He barely even registers the pain of the razor blade imbedded in his palm. He rests on his knees, dropping his chest to the ground. His arms stretched out above his head. Pictures continue to assault his mind as his body shakes, desperate for air.

Bobby's already down the hall and in Sam's room by the time Dean hits the floor. Bobby wanted to help Dean himself, but he didn't know how Dean would react. Plus he knew it would destroy Sam if he found out he just slept through this.

Bobby forcefully shakes Sam by the shoulders. "Sam, wake up."

"Mmm...Bobby?" Sam doesn't open his eyes, clearly still half a sleep.

"Wake up Sam, Dean's in trouble." Bobby says, shaking Sam some more.

Once the words are out of Bobby's mouth, Sam jumps out of bed. He rushes over to his bag and throws on his jeans and a shirt.

"Where is he?" Sam demands, as he gets dressed. Thinking his brother took off.

"Sam take a breath." Bobby replies calmly, needing to catch Sam up as quickly as possible before he sends him to Dean.

Sam, now dressed, turns to face Bobby. "Sorry, where is he?"

"He's in the washroom." Bobby responds.

"Shit Bobby. You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to tell me he took off." Sam takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"He's having an attack. I didn't want to spook him. I think he had one hell of a nightmare." Bobby continues, knowing this is going to send Sam into another panic.

"Damn it Bobby, why didn't you lead with that." Sam drops to his knees by his bag. He quickly finds a new pill bottle.

Bobby kneels down next to Sam, needing Sam to be up to date before he rushes into the washroom. Bobby knows Dean doesn't have a lot of time before he probably passes out, but he still needs to have a small talk with Sam.

"Sam listen to me, before you run in there I need to tell you something." Bobby says, gripping Sam's shoulder to prevent him from getting up.

"What Bobby? I need to get to my brother." Sam replies, clearly panicking.

"I know, but look, since I didn't know you guys were coming...I didn't have time to hide some things that I bought today. And I'm not blaming this on anyone, it's no ones fault. But he found some razors." Bobby wants to continues, but Sam freaks. Just like Bobby suspected.

"What? He didn't...fuck Bobby. I got to get to him." Sam struggles to get up.

"I know. He's didn't do anything. But when he collapsed, I think he got a blade stuck in his hand. I just wanted you to know, and be aware. I'm done now, go." Bobby lets go of Sam, and Sam's out of the room in a flash.

When Sam gets to the bathroom, Dean is still struggling for breath. _Damn it._ Sam puts the pill into his pocket, going to try and talk his brother down from the attack before drugging him.

"Dean, can you hear me." Sam asks softly as he kneels down in front of his brother. He doesn't want to get too close and touch him. Sam doesn't want to scare his brother.

Dean continues to shake, he can hear his brother now. But he's not sure if it's all in his head. He wants to speak, or look up.

"Dean, I'm here, okay. If you can hear me, please...I need something. You're safe here." Sam pleads, not sure what else to do.

"Sammy." Dean gasps, still unable to breath. Unable to block out the memories.

Sam barely heard his brother, but it's enough. "Okay. Everything is going to be okay. You're at Bobby's. Nothing can hurt you. I need you to breath, can you do that for me. Or you're going to pass out."

Bobby watches from the hallway again, tears in his eyes as he watches Sam try to reach out to his brother. He know nows whatever it is the boys are still keeping from him, it's huge. And it's the main force behind these panic attacks. He can't hear anything Dean says, and maybe that's for the best. Bobby shouldn't find out this way, so he backs away. Goes downstairs to the kitchen, and decides to wait it out.

Back in the washroom, Dean is still in the same position.

"Dean, please." Sam pleads, not sure what to do.

"Can't...please, I need...can't...make it...go. I don't...can't...please." Dean gasps, not making any sense.

"Dean, it's okay. I'm going to help you sit up, alright." Sam waits, he needs Dean to acknowledge him, he doesn't want to make him freak out even more.

"Can't breath...Sammy...I don't...no more..." Dean gasps, needing his pills but he's out. He's freaking out. It feels like he's dying. "Help."

"Okay. I'm going to help you up. We're going to sit you against the tub." Sam gently tells Dean before he moves.

It's a struggle, Dean doesn't want to move. Doesn't want his brother to see him like this. But Sam is able to get Dean up and against the tub. All while being careful of his hand. Dean continues to struggle for breath.

"Dean, I need you to listen to me. Whatever you saw, whatever you're seeing now. It's not happening. You're safe, you're with me. We're at Bobby. I need you to calm down or you're going to pass out." Sam tries to remain calm, but the longer his brother's attack lasts, the more freaked out he's getting.

"Their gone...and I can't. I can't...breath...please Sammy. Make it...I don't want...please. Stop." Dean pleads, needing air.

"Okay. I have your pills okay, if you can't...I can give you two if it's the only way to help. But I really wish you'd be able to calm down without them." Sam is now really concerned that his brother is too dependent on the pills.

"Please, Sammy." Dean gasps.

Sam quickly gets the bottle out of his pocket and opens it. He gets two pills out, and passes them to Dean. He's seen his brother take these pills without water, so he's not going to ask if he needs it now. He just needs his brother to calm down.

Dean quickly takes the pills, needing them to take as an immediate effect. But he also doesn't want to sleep. Sam sits down in front of him, leaning against the sink cabinet.

"Talk to me Dean." Sam pleads, doing everything he can to not break down himself. The tears and the pain on his brother's face pulling at Sam's heart.

"I just...need these...to work." Dean gasps, still unable to breath. But the shaking slowly calming.

"Then we'll need to fix up your hand." Sam replies, defeated.

Dean looks down at his hand, now that his brain is going a little numb and jumble. He know sees the blade in his hand. It's a little deep, and now he can feel the pain throbbing. Dean then quickly looks up at his brother.

"I'm sorry." Dean pleads, air now filling his lungs. The pills taking effect.

"Dean, it's okay." Sam's not sure what Dean's apologizing for, but he has a couple guesses.

"I didn't mean to. Everything was kind of a blur. I wanted to, but I didn't. I didn't want you ashamed of me when you found out, since you have this creepy way of finding things out lately. So I didn't." Dean mumbles, not meeting his brother's eyes.

"Dean, it's okay. I'm not ashamed of you. Never could be." Sam replies, feeling tears build in eyes. But he can't cry. This isn't about him.

Silence stretches out, neither of the boys sure for how long. But Dean's calmer now, able to breath. The memories back in their place, far back in his mind. Away from the surface.

"You okay now? Pills help?" Sam asks, even though he knows the answer. He's just not sure what else to say.

"Ya, I'm okay." Dean replies, still just staring at his bloody hand.

"We should get that cleaned up. Um..." Sam turns to open the cabinet he's leaning against, and luckily there's a small first-aid box instead. He pulls the box out, and opens it up. He also pulls out a fresh small towel.

Sam moves closer to his brother, setting the box down on the floor next to him. Sam gently wraps a hand around Dean's wrist and pulls it close to him. Dean flinches, but doesn't pull away. He knows his brother is just trying to help.

"I'm just going to roll your sleeve up a bit, okay?" Sam says softly, not wanting to upset his brother.

Dean shakes his head, he doesn't want his brother to see anymore. He just wants to hide everything away. Hide it all away until it doesn't exist anymore. Until it has no power.

"It's okay Dean. You didn't do anything right? There's nothing for me to see." Sam knows by what Bobby told him earlier that Dean didn't cut himself. But Sam can't really tell his brother that Bobby witnessed his earlier breakdown. That might possibly push Dean back down again.

"No." Dean mumbles, still not looking at his brother. He may not have put the blade to his arms, but he still had the intention to. Still had the strongest urge.

"Okay then. So it's okay." Sam slowly pushes Dean's sleeve up a little. Just to get it out of the way. There isn't a lot of blood left, most of it on the floor where Dean's hand rested earlier. But Sam knows it will start up again when he pulls the blade out of his brother's hand.

Sam takes a deep breath and pulls the blade out of Dean's palm. The blade was pretty deep, so the blood starts pooling into Dean's hand. Sam quickly applies pressure to Dean's hand with the towel.

"I think we might need to stitch it a bit. You doing okay?" Sam asks, needing to fill the silence.

"Okay." Dean mumbles.

Sam sighs as he pulls out what he needs from the first-aid kit. They are both still tired. Sam only got a few hours of sleep before Bobby woke him up. But Sam fears it might be difficult to get Dean back to bed. Whatever woke him up, whatever haunts him...it's bad.

"I'm sure this is a pointless question...but do you want to talk about it?" Sam asks as he begins to stitch up his brother's hand.

Dean just shakes his head as he watches his brother tend to his stupidity. He can't talk about it. Not now. Maybe never.

"Dean, will you at least look at me. I feel like...fuck." Sam curses. Sam finishes with Dean's hand and slams everything back into the first-aid box.

Dean jumps at the sound, and finally looks up at his brother. He knew it wouldn't last. He knew it was only a matter of time before Sam came to his senses.

"Sorry, didn't mean to...sorry." Sam mumbles, seeing the change in his brother.

Dean isn't sure what to say. He wants to looks away, or hell...run away.

"I just want you to talk to me. I just...I didn't mean to snap. I'm not mad at you or anything. I'm sorry." Sam collapses back against the cabinet.

"It would be okay if you were." Dean replies honestly.

"No, it wouldn't be okay. I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at this whole situation. That people hurt you. That you think you need to hurt yourself. That's what makes me angry." Sam says, trying to calm his emotions. He doesn't want Dean to misinterpret anything.

Dean doesn't know what to say to that. He feels completely drained, and exhausted. The pills helping him relax, and cloud his mind. But Dean knows it's not a promise of a dreamless night. He took them before he went to bed and he got trapped.

"Okay, why don't we got you back to bed then. It really won't be comfy if we both pass out here, in this cramped washroom." Sam spoke up, trying to offer his brother a smile. But there's still a pain in his chest from everything that's happen in the last few minutes.

Dean wipes his good hand across his face, trying to get ride of all the tears. Luckily he stopped crying a while ago. The drugs helped with that. Making it all numb.

"Do you think..." Dean finally speaks up, his voice soft and wrecked.

Sam is surprised to hear his brother's voice. He thought it would be silence for the rest of the night.

"Do you think I'll ever get my cool bad-ass older brother title back?" Dean asks sadly, looking up at his brother with a sad smile.

"Oh Dean, you were never cool." Sam says, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You sure have a way of making me feel all warm inside Sammy." Dean replies. Sam laughs.

"I'm sorry Dean, but you can't get back what you haven't lost in the first place." Sam hopes he'll get a joke out of that, even forced, because that will mean there's still hope.

"That's a better hallmark, chick-flick response." Dean smirks, the smile not as bright as it could be. But Sam sees that glimmer of hope that he wanted.

Sam smiles, but it's still sad. Because this doesn't change anything. This isn't talking about the real problem. But they are both tired, so Sam forces himself to his feet.

"Come on. Let's get you back to bed." Sam extend his hand towards his brother.

Dean doesn't want to move. He doesn't want to go back there.

"Come on. You'll be okay." Sam assures his brother when he sees the glimmer of fear in Dean's eyes.

Dean slowly grabs a hold of his brother's hand, and lets Sam pull him to his feet. He doesn't say anything while they walk back to Dean's room. Dean just quietly gets under the covers and curls up into a tight protective ball.

Sam's heart breaks slightly at the sight. He can't even begin to imagine what his brother must be feeling, and going through. So Sam climbs onto the bed, and sits next to his brother, resting against the headboard.

"I don't want to talk about it." Dean mumbles, knowing his brother is next to him.

"I know. I'm just going to stay here a bit, okay." Sam replies.

Dean doesn't respond, doesn't know what to say. He hates how much he needs his brother. How weak and pathetic he feels in the moment. He doesn't want to close his eyes. But he's exhausted, and the pills he's taken over the last couple hours are helping his eye lids feel extra heavy.

It's not long before Dean is sleeping, dreamlessly...hopefully for the rest of the night. Sam stays seated against the headboard. Wanting to be sure that if his brother gets trapped, he'll be able to pull him out of the nightmare safely.

Downstairs, Bobby paced the kitchen for who knows how long. Worried about what is going on above him. He was tempted to make himself some coffee, do some reading. But it's only...not even three in the morning. He needs to sleep. Needs to get a couple hours, and be able to get up before the boys. Awake for whatever he needs to do tomorrow.

After a while, Bobby can't wait anymore so he slowly makes his way upstairs. The halls are quiet. Bobby walks to Dean's room first, and quietly opens the door enough to peek inside. Tears well up in the older man's eyes at what he sees.

Sam is passed out, still sitting upright on the bed. Still against the headboard. Dean still curled up with the blankets wrapped protectively around his body.

The image so familiar for Bobby, expect the picture is different. When Sam and Dean stayed at Bobby when they were younger, Bobby would sometime find the boys in a similar state. But back then it would be Dean that fell asleep in the seated position, watching over his baby brother.

Bobby sighs, whatever Dean is dealing with is huge. And he's clearly not dealing with it at all. Both boys are suffering because of it. While the boys are staying with him, Bobby's going to do all he can to help.

SNSNSNSNSN

Bobby wakes up before the boys, just like he anticipated. He got a couple hours, but it wasn't the best sleep he's had. First thing he does, since he passed out after checking on the boys, is clean up the washroom. Wash up the blood, and put away the razor blades.

Bobby's still kicking himself for his part in what happened last night. He's only slightly relieved since he thankfully woke up when he did, or last night could have been worst then it was.

Bobby then makes his way downstairs, needing some coffee. Bobby wonders if the smell of coffee woke the younger Winchester. Or if he was already up, but didn't want to leave his brother. Either way, it wasn't long after the coffee was made that Sam dragged himself into the kitchen.

Bobby doesn't need to ask. He can tell Sam's stiff because of how he slept. Sam's walking stiffly, and stretching. Bobby doesn't ask if he's okay, or if he slept well, because he knows the answers to those questions. Instead, Bobby just pours an extra cup of coffee and they both sit down at the table.

"I need to run some errands in town today." Bobby finally says. It's not completely a lie, he's sure he can find something to do in town. But that's not why he's leaving.

"Oh, um...okay." Sam mumbles, staring at his coffee.

"I won't go though, if you want me to stay. Talk about it?" Bobby counters, not really wanting to get in the brother's way.

"If you have things to do." Sam replies, still not looking up at the older man.

"Sam, I don't have to leave this second. So come on, what are you thinking? Because I gotta say, you're freaking me out right now with the silence and the staring broodingly at your coffee cup." Bobby says lightly, trying to nudge Sam out of his mood and into something a little better.

Sam raising his already tear filled eyes to Bobby. Bobby lets out a hurt sigh. "Sam."

"You know what I'm thinking." Sam drops his eyes back down to his coffee mug. "I'm thinking, what if we didn't come here. What if we stopped to rest at some crappy motel so that I would have time to call you and let you know we were coming. What if I passed out and didn't have you around when it matter. Because...last night Bobby. I fucking slept right through it. Dean was...and I just..."

"Hey, it's okay." Bobby tries.

"No, it's not fucking okay." Sam nearly shouts, looking back up to Bobby as a few tears break free and run down Sam's face.

"Look Sam, I can't even understand half of what's going on. And that's fine, because it's Dean's story or stories to tell. But you can't blame yourself every time something like this happens to him when you're not around. Because you can't always be around him twenty-four seven Sam. I know you want to, and that's great. But what about the times you weren't there, before Dean came to get you at Stanford?" Bobby knows it's a low blow, and that's not what he wanted. He just wants Sam to stop beating himself up.

"He was probably fine before I came along." Sam mumbles, the anger already drained from his with Bobby's words.

"How do you know that?" Bobby asks.

"Because Dad sure as hell wouldn't have pushed. And I pushed. And I re-opened wounds that he buried. Made him looks at things he didn't want to. Made him talk about things he wanted to just forget." Sam is rambling he knows, but Bobby doesn't let him to it for too long.

"And he'd still be ignoring the problem, and carving himself to pieces with any sharp object he could find when it became to much. I loved your daddy, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this in any attempt to piss on his memory. But your daddy, he wasn't really known for the sharing and caring. And Dean, trying to be the perfect little soldier, thought that's how he needed to be too. So don't say all this is your fault. It might be hard, and painful. But what's happening, it needs to happen so your brother can heal and get over whatever if causing him so much pain." Bobby insists strongly.

"But Bobby..." Sam tries, but Bobby cuts him off.

"No, don't Sam. You didn't see you're brother before I woke you up." Bobby continues.

"I know, I was fucking sleeping." Sam hisses.

"Sam, I didn't mean it like that. Okay. I just...damn it boy." Bobby sighs.

"Sorry." Sam mumbles.

"I meant that you didn't see what happened. You're brother was mess, you saw. Whatever caused that state, you probably know more about it. But that's...I don't mean I need know what it is. All I know is that, because I didn't put away my shit, you're brother found a bunch of razors. But this isn't about the blame game, okay Sam. It's about the fact that I watched you're brother pick up a razor blade, and then drop it. For whatever reason, he didn't cut himself last night. And that's what you need to look at. Not all the other stuff you want to blame yourself for. But for the fact that Dean put down that blade." Bobby says strongly, needing to get through to the younger man in front of him.

"I just feel like I'm losing him bit by bit. Like every time we get somewhere, it's not one step forward, two steps back. It's more like half a step forward, and twenty steps back." Sam sighs.

"I know it's tough, but you're all that boy has left. And as much as I want to help, and I'm glad at least one of you isn't shutting the world out. I have a feeling your brother isn't going to start opening up to me any time soon." Bobby replies, not wanting this to be a guilt trip. He just wants Sam to stop beating himself up over something he clearly has no control over.

"What if he doesn't talk to anybody. What if his memories kill him." Sam admits, the first time admitting his fear aloud. He doesn't want to believe it would ever come to that. He wants to believe his brother when he said he wasn't suicidal. But what he say last night, it broke Sam's heart into even more tiny shards.

"We all have demons that can't be banished with a few lines of latin. Because they're up here." Bobby explains, pointing a finger to his head. "It's our memories. Our not so happy experiences."

Bobby can see the struggle Sam's going through, trying hard not to break. Trying hard not to cry. Bobby continues, needing to get through to him.

"Most of it has to do with the job, or even what got us into the hunt in the first place. But we fight it. I'm not saying it's not hard. But your brother's strong Sam. It might take a hell of a lot of time. But he'll find his way back." Bobby continues, he just wants Sam to stop his fascination with his coffee cup.

"What if part of what's haunting him has nothing to do with the job?" Sam asks. He knows he's hinted at it before. Hell, Sam knows the job hasn't helped Dean or his issues. But Sam has a pretty good idea what gave his brother the nightmare last night.

"Your brother's a fighter Sam. Whatever happened to him, he'll push past it. I know it." Bobby insists, needing to believe his own pep talk.

Sam just stares at his coffee, that has barely touched. He doesn't know what to say. He's tired, stress, and worried. He feels himself cracking every second, and he doesn't want to break.

"Look, it's killing me to do this, but right now I'm going to back off. Give you and your brother time to talk without me around. That way...no need to filter anything. Let's focus on what's best for your brother right now. I'm sure you want to get back upstairs, so he doesn't wake up alone. Despite the fact I'm sure you're brother's going to want to forget that anything happened last night. Ignore it." Bobby says, not really wanting to leave.

"Ya. He's probably going to do what he always do while we're here. Ignore me, and just work on that damn car." Sam mumbles, finally drinking some of his coffee.

"That's why I'm going to take the Impala into town." Bobby explains bluntly.

"What?" Sam nearly shouts, choking on the coffee going down his throat.

Bobby waits for Sam to stop coughing, tears running down the younger man's face. "Are you okay?"

"Did I hear you right? You're going to take Dean's car into town without asking him. Bobby, no, it took him weeks to even let me behind the wheel when he came and got me last year at school." Sam panics, hoping Bobby's joking.

"I know, he'll be pissed. But you need to talk to that brother of yours. And my car kind of died. It'd rather not slave over it all day and then go into town. Didn't sleep the greatest last night, same as you." Bobby explains. He hates lying. But this is for the best.

"Bobby, he'll talk...it's...I can't just back him into a corner." Sam pleads.

"I'm not saying back him into a corner. I'm not even saying you need to talk about what happened last night. I'm just taking myself and that car our of the equation. Give you two a change to relax in a comfortable environment. Something that isn't some crap-ass motel of the week, where you're working a job. I just want the two of you to relax. If you guys talk, then you talk. But this way, he isn't going to ignore it all by working on the car." Bobby insists, knowing full well this plan of his could very well explode in his face.

"You're car isn't really broken, is it?" Sam asks, a little confused.

"Sam, where are the keys?" Bobby asks.

Sam sighs and gets out of his chair. Bobby waits in the kitchen as Sam gets the keys. He hates that he's doing this, but he still feels it's the right thing to do. It doesn't take Sam long to get back with the car keys.

"Don't be too long, okay? I know you think you're doing the right thing by not being here. But..." Sam struggles with what he's trying to say, not sure how to admit how much he needs the older man. How much it helps him to be able to talk to someone, especially since he can't talk to Dean.

"I won't. I'll be back for dinner, I'll pick something up on the way. And we'll talk, okay, once we get your brother settled back in bed tonight. We'll talk." Bobby insists, knowing Sam is in great pain as well. And unlike his brother, Sam is willing to talk about it.

"Thanks Bobby. I should get back up there. He should be up soon." Sam replies, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the kitchen.

"Then get going. I'll see you later today, okay." Bobby too get up off his chair.

Sam just nods before leaving the kitchen. Bobby hates leaving, he wishes he didn't need to. But Bobby can't help but remember how ashamed Dean looked the last time he knew Bobby witnessed a breakdown. The last time, and first time for Dean, where Bobby had to take care of him. Bobby's not stupid in thinking that Dean's perfect with Sam, because he's probably the same with just about anyone that witnesses what he believes to be weakness. But Bobby knows this is something Sam needs to address today, not him.

Bobby slowly leaves the house, dreading what he needs to do to his own car. The only working vehicle on his lot at the moment. Which only means, he will actually have to fix it up before ever going into town again once the boys leave. But Bobby has insisted to himself that this plan of his is for the best, so he takes some parts out of his car, and cuts up some other parts before making his way to the Impala.

SNSNSNSN

Sam gets back to Dean's room, and back to where he was sitting earlier on the bed. Dean still hasn't moved, and Sam's wondering how much longer he should let his brother sleep before waking him up. Sam just hopes Dean isn't caught in some weird and hellish dream, and just isn't showing it to the outside world. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if that happened on his watch.

Sam's not sure how much time passes, could be minutes or hours, but Dean finally starts to stir.

"Please tell me you didn't just sit there all night and stare at me, because that would just be fucking creepy." Dean mumbles, his back still to Sam.

Sam laughs, even if the pain in his chest isn't gone. He knows this doesn't change anything, but it helps. Having glimpses of the old Dean now and then, fake or not, they help in the long run.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Sam replies, smile still on his face.

Dean slowly stretches out on the bed, and rolls onto his back.

"Couldn't even bring me breakfast in bed, not even a cup of coffee. I'm disappointed in you Sammy." Dean smiles, hoping he can put off the inevitable for as long as possible.

"No way you're staying in bed all day you lazy ass. Come on, get up." Sam pushes Dean hard, and laughs as his brother yells, falling off the bed.

Sam jumps off the bed and quickly walks out of the room.

"You better run you jackass." Dean shouts from the floor, rolling on to his back. Dean smiles, maybe today won't suck so bad.

Dean slowly gets up, and dressed before making his way downstairs. Sam's in the kitchen, which really doesn't surprise Dean. Coffee is sounding really really good right now.

Sam's sitting at the kitchen table, staring at his second cup of coffee as Dean enters. He made Dean a cup to, make his brother a little happy before all hell breaks loose. Sam's just struggling with how to approach it all. If he should jump right in with what happened last night, or if he should tell his brother Bobby took the Impala into town. Either way, it's going to suck.

Dean can see the change in his brother, the tension laced in Sam's shoulders and face. If this were any other day, or any other situation, Dean would be worried about his brother. He'd want to know what was causing Sam this pain. But today, Dean know, and it's all his fault. He can't asks, not without having to talk about it.

Dean sits down across from his brother, and focuses on his coffee. He knows it will only be a matter of time, maybe even seconds before Sam starts asking about it.

"So, you sleep okay last night?" Sam asks, hoping it's not too heavy of a first question to ask.

"Fine. Can we...um, can we not talk about it?" Dean knows it stupid, but he can't stop himself from asking.

"So I'm supposed to just keep ignoring it all, is that what you're telling me. Well fuck you Dean! I can't keep ignoring it all. Nobody would be able to. No one with half a fucking heart would be able to sit by and watch half the shit I have. So no, we can't not talk about it damn it." Sam shouts, not sure where the anger is coming from. He doesn't want to be mad at his brother. He doesn't want Dean to blame himself even more about what has been happening.

"I'm sorry, I didn't...I didn't mean to yell, fuck." Sam curses, feeling completely out of control. Having no idea what to do.

"It's okay. I was waiting for that for awhile now." Dean admits sadly.

"Dean, no, I'm not mad at you. I didn't want...I just...this fucking sucks okay. We both know that. I'm just frustrated, and not at you. I'm frustrated at myself, and this situation. I just...I don't know what to do half the time, and it scares the crap out of me." Sam apologizes, hoping his brother will understand.

"I'm sorry, if um...I don't really want to talk about it. I can't talk about it." Dean doesn't need to elaborate what _it_ is. They both know what Dean's talking about.

"I know. As much as I hate it, I know. And I don't...you don't have to talk about it. But there are some things you can talk about, right, even if it's still painful." Sam hates ignoring the biggest trigger, but he's willing to take a step back if his brother will talk about anything, anything at all.

"Look, I know, okay. I know it's not healthy, but I'm not really in the mood to talk about this shit okay. I just need some time to relax, that's why we're here right. To relax between hunts." Dean counters, needed to back out of this conversation as easily and painlessly as possible.

"We're here because we needed a break, because everything is getting too...fucked up. And your just using the hunt as another way to hide everything else away. That's why we're here. To sort through somethings because these issues could really start messing up a hunt and get one or both of us killed." Sam states bluntly, hating the flinches that runs through his brother at the statement.

"Fuck you Sam. I know how to do my god damn job, and nothing, no matter what shit is fucking with my head...it won't ever fuck up the job. Fuck, I can't believe..." Dean pushes himself away from the table, he needs to get out of here.

"I didn't mean it like that Dean, wait." Sam shouts as he follows Dean into the living room. "Would you stop."

Dean stops and turns to face his brother. He hates this all just as much as Sam.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to...I know that's not what you meant. I'm sorry." Dean apologizes, still just wanting to get away.

"Do you really mean it, or are you just saying it so we drop the conversation and you can avoid me for the rest of the day." Sam asks honestly, hoping it option number one.

Dean sighs, he can tell his brother is in pain. "I really mean it."

"Good." Sam replies, relieved.

"But um...I still, I don't...um, thanks for last night, really. But I...I just need a little time to wrap my head some things. I think I'm just going to work on the car, you know. Might as well keep it in top shape while we here. Bobby's place it pretty much like a free auto-shop." Dean replies, knowing he's rambling. He just doesn't want to be here, in the room with his brother anymore. He feels like he can't breath.

"You can't." Sam states bluntly, knowing this will be the turning point. He can see his brother is close to running out the door, needed to get away from the massive-ass chick-flick that Sam's trying to force on him. But this, Dean's going to be so pissed.

"What do you mean, I can't. You're going to force me to have a conversation now, I thought you weren't...fuck Sammy, you know I can't talk about it. I can't. Don't make me." Dean pleads, tears stinging his eyes. His lungs feeling like they are on fire.

"No, Dean, that's not what I meant. I mean...you can't go work on the car, 'cuz Bobby kind of took it into town." Sam replies, nervously.

"What?" Dean shouts.

Sam wonders if Dean's face would actually turn red from rage, if that were possible. Because he sure looked extremely pissed of at the moment.

"He needed to run some errands in town, and he didn't want to crowd us this morning with...well, you know. His car's broken or something, I donno, he didn't explain. So he took the impala." Sam tries to explain, hopefully he'll calm down his brother before Bobby gets back at least.

"That fucking son-of-a-bitch! I'm so going to kick that man's ass. God damn it!" Dean shouts, knocking over a pile of books close to him. He starts pacing the living room.

"Dean, calm down okay. What's the big deal." Sam says calmly, not sure why Dean's this upset.

"Come on Sammy, there's nothing wrong with his god damn car. He's fucking lying. He just didn't want me to...fucking prick." Dean continues, losing a little heat by the end. But he's clearly still royally ticked off.

"Dean, I'm sure he has his reasons. He wasn't trying to piss you off." Sam replies, really wanting Dean to just calm down and really talk to him.

"Ya, I'm sure he wasn't...wait." Dean stop and turns towards Sam. "Why would he want to give us space this morning. What...he was gone before we got up. Right? How did you even know he took the Impala this morning?"

"Dean, please." Sam pleads, not wanting his brother to know Bobby witnessed what happened last night. He knows Dean won't take it well.

"No, you said that Bobby didn't want to crowd us this morning with...I donno, with what? Why didn't he want to crowd us. You obviously talked to him before he left, did you tell him to leave? Tell him what happened last night?" Dean demands, feeling his body start to sake slightly. He wants to believe it's because of anger, but there a slight fear and panic to the whole situation.

"I didn't have to tell him what happened last night Dean. I wouldn't do that to you." Sam says, hating the look in his brother's eyes.

"No, like you didn't tell him about our conversation about the...about when I started..." Dean flung his arms in the arm, still unable to say a stupid word.

"I'm sorry about, I am. But it's...I needed to talk to someone about that Dean. What you told me..." Sam wasn't sure how to justify what he did. Tears sting his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Don't..." Dean wants to say don't cry, but the words get stuck in his throat. His mind clearly on a delay this morning. Because he know realizes what he brother said only a minute ago. "Wait, so...you didn't tell him what happened, but why do I have the feeling that he knows for some reason."

"Dean, I almost...I didn't wake up because I heard you. Bobby did. He um...he saw you in the washroom. And when you started having an attack, he came and woke me up." Sam explains, trying to be as vague as possible. He wants to know why Dean didn't end up cutting himself last night, but this wasn't exactly how he wanted to get to the subject.

"No, no, no, he didn't...what did...Sammy?" Dean already having a hard time breathing worried about how much Bobby say.

"Dean, you need to calm down, okay. Everything is fine. Please don't have a panic attack over this, please." Sam pleads desperately.

"Sammy, please, what did he...please tell me he didn't see everything. I wasn't...fucking fuck!" Dean shouts, frustrated with everything that is happening. He won't panic, not now. He can see the pain in his brother's eyes because of it all.

"Dean, it doesn't matter what he saw." Sam continues his attempts to calm his brother, but it seems to be pointless.

"Just tell me Sam!" Dean shouts, holding onto his anger so that the tears don't consume him. Sam drops his gaze to the floor.

"We didn't really talk about it much. I just know that he saw that you found his razors. He's kind of blaming himself for that one." Sam explains slowly, taking a pause when he hears a painful gasp from his brother.

Sam looks over to Dean, and his brother turns his back to him. Sam can see his brother's body shaking slightly, but he stays where he is.

"He saw you drop the blade, and then that's when you started having a panic attack I guess. Bobby woke me up pretty quickly after that. Dean, please just look at me. Bobby knew about the cutting okay, so it's not like it's something new." Sam explains, regretting the words once they're out of his mouth. Regretting them as Dean turns around quickly, pain in his eyes.

"Right, so that makes everything fucking perfect. Fuck, he...fuck." Dean deflates, collapses onto the couch. He doesn't know how to process that. How is he going to act around Bobby now?

"Dean, come on. It's okay. I mean...it's not, but...Bobby isn't going to treat you any differently." Sam insists and he kneels down in front of his brother, needed to get his brother to just talk to him.

"Right, like you don't treat me differently." Dean replies, looking up from his hands and to his brother's face. "Like you don't expect me to break at any moment?"

"Dean, I know this fucking sucks, but I'm doing everything I can here. I'm trying so hard to give you space. And I'm trying hard to be there for you when you need me, even when I feel completely out of my fucking depth. And I know you are trying, and that's what's important. You're not...well, you're still closed off, but...you're trying. And that means a lot." Sam's not sure if any of his words are reaches his brother, Dean looking back to his hands the second Sam speaks.

"I know." Dean mumbles.

"So, um...I really don't want to push my luck here or anything. But um...do you want to talk about it? And when I say it, it can be anything. But it's kind of bugging me not to ask." Sam lets himself sit down on the floor, wanting his brother to know he can escape the room and conversation at anytime.

Dean hates this, he hates that he puts such a strain on his brother. But he still can't just let the floodgate open, for so many reasons. Can talking about emotional issues really help? Dean wants to laugh, because he still doesn't believe it. But his brother does.

"You want to know why I didn't do it?" Dean asks, hoping his brother understands without him actually using the words.

"Ya, I mean, I'm happy you didn't carve up your arm for whatever haunted you last night. But, I mean, if you want to tell me." Sam asks, really hoping his brother doesn't say what he thinks he's going to say.

"I thought of you. How you were in the next room, and how you're freakishly smart and intuitive. It would only be a matter of hours or days before you figured out what I did. I didn't want you to finally realize how stupid this all is. I knew you'd be disappointed." Dean explains, not wanting to looking down at his brother, who's still sitting on the floor by his feet.

And there it is, Sam sighs. That's exactly the explanation Sam didn't want to hear. He didn't want Dean to start going cold turkey, and shut down just because he doesn't want to disappoint him. He'd rather Dean realize it's a bad coping mechanism and talk to him when he had the feelings that led to cutting in the first place.

"Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but thanks for being honest and not running for the hills I guess." Sam finally says, after really thinking what his brother just said.

"I'm sorry, this talking thing isn't really a strong suit of mine. Was always your thing." Dean smiles, trying to push all the pain and the tears away.

Sam really looks at his brother, tears forming in his own eyes. He wishes there was a way he could wash away all the pain and grief he sees in his brother's eyes. Sam can't help but wonder what might have happened if he never went away to Stanford in the first place. It would erase some, but not all of the pain his brother is experiencing. But since Sam can't turn back time, he has to try and help his brother through it all the hard way.

"It's never easy for me either Dean, it's always hard to talk about the things that hurt us. But I'd rather you talk to me when you...whenever you feel the need to take a blade to your arm. I don't want you to just not to it because you don't want me to be disappointed in you. I want you to stop because you want to stop. Because you know it's not healthy." Sam knows he's putting words out there that Dean's never admitted to, but he hopes Dean knows what he's doing isn't healthy.

"I know that's what you want, and I wish I wanted it too. But I don't know if I want to stop. Because if I stop, then what is there?" Dean knows he's pretty much replaced the cutting with the pills anyways, but it's still relevant.

"But I'm going to try, okay." Dean says quickly as he sees the added pain in his brother's eyes. Tears well up in Dean's eyes as he fights for control, and the words to ease his brother's pain.

"You're saying that just for me again, aren't you?" Sam asks, not really needing to know the answer.

"What do you want me to say huh? I'm completely out of my fucking depth here, what more do you want from me? Huh? You want me to go see some fucking shrink, because you know that's not going to fucking happen." Dean nearly shouts, getting off the couch, angry.

"I know, trust me, I know you're not going to see a shrink. Doctor Kane, the um...the shrink I saw a couple times. He would always say that I should talk you into therapy, or something to that degree. But I always told that you would never go for it, okay. So trust me, I know." Sam sighs, defeated. He stays on the ground, not wanting to crowd him.

"I'm sorry. God, I've been such a jackass. You're in just as much pain as I am." Dean mumbles, walking back to the couch.

"Ya, Dean, I am. But I talk about it. Whether it's with you, or Bobby, or Doctor Kane. But I don't have the Doctor Kane route anymore. Just you and Bobby. And if you want this to be a conversation where I talk about what's hurting me, than we can do that. But today, I'm actually doing okay. I'm just worried about you. So..." Sam really wants to get off the floor, it's not that comfortable. But he stays there until he knows he can move.

"Why don't you have Doctor Kane anymore?" Dean asks, okay with steering the conversation a little. Gives him a little time.

"Okay, I can tell you the story, if I can get off the floor. Because my ass is seriously going numb here." Sam says, smiling a little.

Dean laughs, a genuine laugh. Sam feels like today is different, actually a good day.

"Okay, come on, plenty of room on the couch." Dean smiles, moving to one end of the couch.

They both sit on the couch, legs tucked under themselves so they can face each other.

"I went to see Doctor Kane about getting you a new prescription for your anxiety medication. I knew you were running low after the...um, when you had an attack outside...after the whole visiting mom's grave thing. Sorry." Sam stumbles, hating having to bring that up.

"It's okay." Dean mumbles, pulling his legs up to his chest. Resting his chin on his knees.

"Right, sorry. Anyways, um...he wouldn't give me the prescription. We talked it out, and I mean I get it, I do. But you're my brother, and we don't really go about things the normal way. And he pretty much told me that I wasn't enough, and that he couldn't just give you another habit to ignore the root problems. So, I'm not going back there. I don't need to. I don't even know why I went in the first place." Sam explains, feeling better getting it all out there in the open.

"I'm sorry, I know it probably helped to talk to someone completely. I know you can't tell Bobby everything, and I appreciate that." Dean knows he should stop at that, but he needs to ask. "And um...do we need to talk about the pill thing?"

"Ya, one of these days we're going to have to. I mean, I only got two bottle. Not sure how I'll get more any time soon. But...I know they help you in the moment. But there are things that Doctor Kane said, that no matter how much that fucking prick pissed me off, he was still right about things. You're just using the drugs like you're using the cutting, a temporary fix for the problem as they come up. And the pills, that's not what they're for, not all the time anyways." Sam explains.

"Replacing one bad habit with another." Dean answers sadly.

"Pretty much." Sam hates the defeated look on his brother. But he's not sure what else to say.

"Then what can I do?" Dean asks, really not sure how to even function any more.

"Talk. I mean, I know you'd rather face off with whatever new creepy crawly we're up against, but talking helps. And I know there are things you can't talk about yet. But, unless you want to become a drug addict, you might want to think about it. I know I try to talk things at you, but this isn't what I'm trying to do. You...You've been through a lot, there's nothing wrong with admitting you need some help." Sam is surprised the conversation is still going on like this. Surprised Dean hasn't made some smart-ass comment and told Sam to leave it alone.

"Right, 'cuz we were raised to talk about our feeling, and cry it out. And..." Dean is getting upset, trying to get the conversation to stop. It's getting a little too weird and serious.

"Dean, stop. I know how we were raised. But we're not kids anymore. Haven't been for a very long time. And if this is about dad, he was never ashamed or disappointed in you. No matter what that son-of-a-bitch, yellow eyed bastard said while in dad's body." Sam replies, a little angry himself.

"Can we not talk about that. I don't want to talk about that." Dean deflates, staring down at his feet, not wanting to see whatever look closes his brother's face because of what he just said.

"Okay." Sam replies, finding himself actually okay with it. He's okay with pushing some of the issues aside if it means Dean's still on this couch talking about something.

"So, I guess, I gotta ask. I'm sure you've researched all this shit. And I'm sure you have a few diagnosis for the problems I have. But, last night, what um...what would have happened if Bobby wasn't awake? If I didn't get those pills? Because...I donno, it felt like I was dying. I guess they all kind of feel like that sometimes, but last night. That one was a tough one." Dean speaks up softly, still not meeting Sam's eyes.

"You're right, there are names for a lot of the things you have because of your...um, what happened to you. And not just the one event, but everything. But last night, you weren't going to die. I know it probably felt like that, and I can't...I wish there was a simple fix. But honestly, if Bobby wasn't awake and didn't get me up. You would have hyperventilated and passed out. You might have gotten stuck in your head. And I know that's not where you'd want to be." Sam answers, hating the small shakes that start to take over his brother's body.

"Then I guess I should thank the man, then I'll kick his ass for his bitch-ass move of stealing my car just so we would talk." Dean grumbles, a small smile on his face.

"Well it worked didn't it? You're not out there working away on your car, ignoring me. We're talking things out." Sam replies, smiling a little at his brother. Wondering how the situation will play out when Bobby does get back.

The room falls into an awkward silence pretty quickly. There are so many things that Sam wants to ask his brother, get him to talk.

"So this...what we're doing now. This wouldn't satisfy Dr. Prick as some form of therapy so we don't have to stress about how we're going to refill these damn pills once I'm out." Dean smiles, finally looking up to his brother.

Sam laughs, but it quickly fades. He wishes this were enough. Sam is surprised how far this conversation has gone, as well as some of the conversations over the last couple of months. Sam never thought his brother would talk openly in the years before he left for Sanford. And even though they still have a ways to go, this still doesn't help if Sam can't gradually get Dean away from his pills.

"I wish. No, Doctor Kane doesn't think I'll be enough in the long run. That you'll need more than I can give you. Professional help." Sam admits. Sam waits to admit it, because he knows that Dean won't take it well.

"Well screw that asshole. You know me better than anyone. You know I'm never going to start talking to a fucking shrink, or go to some stupid support group. Talking to you about this shit is hard enough." Dean replies, anger at Doctor Kane seeping into his voice.

"But what if you need more than me. Because those pills aren't the new fix. You can't just stop cutting completely without talking about it, but then start taking three times the pills you do now. That's not helping." Sam says harshly, but he needs Dean to hear the truth.

"So you want me to keep...you're so fucking confusing right now." Dean shifts his legs, wanting to just leave.

"You can't even say the words can you?" Sam asks, noticing the change. He knows he's losing the conversation and fast. Hating how the question is familiar.

"Fuck you Sam." Dean pushes himself off the couch.

"Hey! Wait!" Sam nearly shouts as he rushes after Dean, cutting him off before he can leave the room.

"If you can't talk to me. If the next time you get the urge to cut yourself, you can't come to me and start the conversation than ya...I'm not enough. We're never going to get past having these conversations where I feel we're finally getting somewhere but then you close off, get mad and leave, or have a panic attack. And I'm trying so fucking hard. Don't let me be one of those people. I don't want to force you to see a shrink. Or have you in one of those in programs that has a therapist and group therapy day to day. And don't even say it." Sam rambles before Dean can cut him off. Sam's pissed.

"It's not a psych ward. I would never turn my back on you and let someone else deal with you. So don't make me do something I don't want to. Please, don't let Doctor Kane be right." Sam continues, deflating by the end. Tears stinging his eyes.

Dean is shocked. He knows his brother would never lock him away. And Dean can't imagine this being easy for Sam, having to take care of him like this.

"Did you rehearse that last night while you watched me sleep like a creepy stalker?" Dean smirks, trying to keep at least one wall from shattering. The tears building in his brother's eyes almost breaking him.

"Damn it Dean, no. I just..." Sam's out of words, not sure what he could say anymore.

"I was kidding, okay. I get it." Dean sighs, not sure what else to say either.

"I know this is hard for you, and I know we past having a huge chick-flick moment a while back. And the conversation can end now if you want. But...I just..." Sam stumbles on his words, not really sure what to say without coming off as a broken record.

"I know, and I promise...I'll try. But, just don't be too disappointed when I can't deliver this miracle of open conversation over night." Dean says seriously, relieved to see a small grin spread across his brother's face.

A few tears break free and Sam wipes them away quickly. He feels he can finally breath since last night.

"Okay, so I'm going to hop in the shower and then...I donno." Dean says, once the tears are gone from his brother's face.

Sam's not sure how to respond, or what to say. He almost feels like having a nap. But Sam's also a little worried, still, about Dean.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Bobby cleaned out the bathroom, so I'll be okay. Promise." Dean's not sure why he felt the need to say that, he's not that close to the edge at the moment.

Dean turns to leave the room. "Hey Dean."

Dean stops, but doesn't turn to face his brother. Not sure if he'll be able to keep it all together if Sam wants to keep talking.

"Doesn't it feel a little better after talking? A small weight off your shoulders?" Sam asks, hopeful.

"The weight is always going to be there, trying to push me under. We talk, we fix something, remove a small amount...there's just more weight. It's never going to stop." Dean replies sadly, new tears building in his eyes. With that he leaves.

That's what does it, the pain in those words. And the walls crack and break. Everything blurs around him as Sam stumbles to the couch. Tears run quickly down Sam's face as he tries desperately not to break down into gut-wrenching sobs. He doesn't want Dean to hear him. He doesn't want Dean to add this moment to his list of weight.

Sam's not sure how much time passes at this point. No idea how long it takes his tears to slow, but they eventually do slow down. And eventually the tears stop all together. The tears dry on Sam's face, making a blotchy mess. His eyes are red and swollen. Sam never moves to try and wipe the tears from his face. He just remains on the couch. Body tense, repressed emotions forced to stay under the surface.

This is how Bobby finds him.

SNSNSNSNSN

Reviews/comments are always welcome, and highly appreciated.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, so sorry it took me so long to update. The second part of this chapter will be up before the end of the week, where we'll get the boys to the episode "Usual Suspect" and the angst those events will have on the boys.


	21. Chapter 21

Here's part two of Chapter 18 - Usual Suspect. Thanks to Marchai43, gr8read, rholou, and 2People for the lovely reviews. Hope you all like the second part of the chapter. I will try to get the next update up as soon as I can.

No major warning except for those already listed in previous chapters for this story. A slight spoiler to Dream a little Dream of Me, 3.10

Enjoy!

SPNSPNSPN

Dean barely got out of the living room before his own tears start to race down his cheeks. Raising an extremely shaky hand to his face didn't do much of anything to stop the continuing tears that sting his cheeks. But Dean just ignores it, needing to clear his head.

The trip to the washroom is blurred, as tears obscure Dean's vision. But he manages to make it to washroom, strip, and gets into the shower. The steaming hot water only turning his skin an ugly shade of red. The pain not registering at all. Dean just wants to stay numb to is all.

John's voice still rings out in his head. Words taunting him even awake. Dean feels the memory of foreign hands ghost over his body. Dean slams his head against the wall, leaving his head directly under the water's spray.

_Pull yourself together._

Dean takes a deep breath, shivering as the temperature of the water finally pushes through the fog. Dean quickly turns the water off.

Dean dries himself off and changes into clean clothes, downing two pills. He isn't exactly taking them as directed, but a little closer. On the outside, Dean looks completely fine and normal. No evidence of the emotional pain that's trying to rip him apart inside.

Dean doesn't want to talk, hell, he doesn't even want to see his brother right now. One painful chick-flick moment is enough for one day. He really did want to check out the Impala, but now...now Dean's curious as to what Bobby did to his car for his plan to work.

Dean slips out of the house, and finds Bobby's car out front. It doesn't take Dean long to see what Bobby cut, and removed from the car.

"That sneaky-scheming son-of-a-bitch." Dean grumbles as he stares under the hood of Bobby's car. Surprised and pissed at the lengths Bobby went to in an attempt to force Dean and Sam to talk.

"I seem to remember a speech where you told me no-one but you could look under the hood of your car." Bobby's voice calls out, startling Dean.

Dean turns to see Bobby slam the car door of the Impala closed. Dean should be angry at that, but he's just confused that he didn't hear the car drive up. Too stuck in his own thoughts.

"Lets pretend that I gave you the same speech." Bobby continues, carrying some bags as he approaches Dean.

"Ya, and I should kick your ass for taking my car." Dean replies, anger back in his voice.

"If that's what it takes for you to pull that stubborn head of yours outta your ass, then have at it. I'll give you a free swing, than it's fair game." Bobby dares, now in front of Dean.

Dean wants to hold onto his anger, but it's quickly fading. He's definitely not going to hit the man that's been helping his brother more than he has.

"I got another bag in your car. Why don't you make yourself useful. Meet me in the kitchen." Bobby doesn't even wait for a response, he walks towards the house.

Dean shakes his head, but walks towards his car. There's a paper bag in the back seat that has a case of beer in it. He's been craving the numbness that alcohol provides, but unless they go to a bar during a hunt, Dean still can't bring himself to go to the bars by himself yet. Even if it where just to drink, because picking up girls is even further down the list.

Inside the house, Bobby enters the kitchen and sets the bag down, taking out some frozen burgers.

"Sam! Want to help me with the grill? Got us some burgers for dinner!" Bobby shouts.

Once Bobby gets everything unpacked that he needs, he gets confused. All he hears is silence. _Where is Sam?_

"Sam!" Bobby calls out, but doesn't get a response again.

Dean enters the kitchen, and puts the beers down.

"You cooking us dinner?" Dean asks.

"Burgers and beer. Water for you thought. That's okay right? I mean, I'm assuming you're not allowed to consume alcohol while you're taking those pills." Bobby replies, knowing it's probably a low blow, and a little cruel, but it needs to be said.

"Ya, I guess not." Dean feels defeated by Bobby's words, but he doesn't want Bobby to notice.

"Where's your brother?" Bobby asks.

"He's here, why?" Dean asks, trying not to panic for not checking in on his brother earlier.

"Wanted to see if he'd help me with the grill, but...he didn't answer me." Bobby replies, hoping his plan didn't explode while he was out.

"Sam!" Dean shouts as he walks out of the kitchen.

Bobby quickly follows, hoping they are both just over reacting. Bobby nearly runs into Dean, who has stopped at the entrance to the living room.

"Dean?" Bobby asks, as he moves around Dean to enter the living room.

What Bobby sees breaks his his heart. He looks back to Dean, angry, despite the pain he also sees in Dean's eyes.

"Damn it boy, what happened? I can't leave for a couple hours without someone falling apart. How do you guys get through hunts you always leave here to run off to?" Bobby snaps, hating when he sees that his words add more hurt and pain to Dean's face. Bobby wants to take it all back when he sees tears spring to Dean's eyes, but Bobby doesn't have a chance to correct it.

"I'm sorry." Dean mumbles before quickly making his way upstairs.

"Damn it." Bobby wants to go after Dean, but he knows Sam need him too. And Sam will accept the help more likely than Dean.

Bobby turns back to Sam. By the looks of it, Sam didn't hear Bobby or his brother, stuck in his own head. Bobby walks over to the couch, and kneels in front of Sam.

"Sam?" Bobby gently calls out as he places a hand lightly on Sam's shoulder.

Sam is startled out of his daze when Bobby's hand makes contact with his shoulder. Sam hates the fact the older man had to find him like this. He slowly sits up on the couch, allowing Bobby to take a seat next to him.

"Not exactly the result I was hoping for when I left this morning." Bobby admits, somewhat defeated.

"It's not your fault Bobby." Sam replies, feeling awkward. Sam sniffles, and wipes a hand over his face. The tears dried, but he still feels them.

"What happened?" Bobby asks.

"We talked. It was bumpy, but we still talked a bit. Nothing too serious. But...I just don't know how to help him. Every time I think we're getting somewhere...he...I don't think Dean wants to get better. Like...he almost feels he deserves it all for some reason." Sam feels a tightness his his chest and throat. But he's all out of tears. He can't cry, and he doesn't want to.

"Did he say that? That he thinks he deserves all this misery? Is that what got you so upset?" Bobby's anger towards Dean earlier is completely gone. Bobby now feels terrible.

"No, but it's Dean. He doesn't have to say it. I still know that's how he feels. He blames himself for things that aren't his fault. He believes he needs to be punished." Sam answers flatly, trying to shut the pain away.

"Okay. We are going to talk. But right now, your going to help me with the grill. We're going to eat, have a few beers, then once everything has settled a little...we'll talk." Bobby knows he should talk some more, but he also knows the boys probably didn't feed themselves while he was gone.

"But Bobby..." Sam starts to protest but Bobby cuts him off.

"You boys need to eat." Bobby states as he gets up.

Sam smiles, glad for the distraction. They barely make it out of the living room before they hear a loud crash above them. Sam jumps and looks over to Bobby, reality slamming back into them.

Bobby frowns. "Go check on him. I'll start dinner."

Sam is hesitant, scared at hat he might find. What state his brother may be in. Or maybe the crash was a complete accident.

"I don't think I should be the one to check in on him. I'll make us food. You make sure he's okay. Talk." Bobby insists, not allowing Sam to argue before he abruptly leaves.

"Shit." Sam sighs.

SPNSPNSPN

Dean goes straight to his room after finding Sam. It broke Dean's heart because he knew it was all his fault. Sam was a mess because of him.

Dean collapses onto the floor next to his bed. He's already feeling a tightness in his chest, and his body shaking. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm his rising emotions. The darkness only brings on more pain. His father's voice of disappointment. The responsibility, the pain, and grief on his shoulder is almost unbearable.

Dean knows he completely failed Sam today. That he just keeps failing. And he can't do it, he can't keep failing his brother. He'd rather take himself out of the problem entirely, one way or another, than hurt Sam. He can't hurt his brother, that's not an option.

Dean opens his eyes, hoping the light and the scenery will stop the pain. It only reminds him of the pain he's causing his brother. That's when the tightness closes off air to his lunges and he feels the painful stab in his chest as he tries to breath.

Dean doesn't waste any time. Any denial about the pills long gone. Luckily his bag is close by, so it isn't too difficult for Dean to get to his pills and pop two in his mouth.

Collapsing against the bed, Dean waits for the pills to do their job. Tears stinging his eyes.

Dean can feel the pills helping him breath, and calming his nerves. The pills don't, however, numb the pain. He still can't shut out the voices, and the guilt, and then pain. Dean feels an incredibly strong urge to do more to numb himself, and take some of the pain away. But that only makes his weak. Dean doesn't want to be weak anymore.

The pills calm his nerves and help him breath. But they don't stop the pain his memories cause, or silence the taunting ant the guilt. He needs more.

Dean starts frantically searching through his bag, knowing he won't find what he's craving. Knowing he should brush it all off, put on a facade and go help with dinner. Or ask for help, but Dean's not sure he's able to do that yet.

Once the content of his bag is scattered around the room, Dean starts to feel the panic rise in his chest. A panic he needs to release, but that also freaks Dean out when he thinks about how dependent he's become one the cutting and the pills.

Dean gets to his feet. _Son of a bitch. Stop. Please._ Dean pleads, pleads with his demons. Then Dean is angrily throwing his empty bag across the room.

The bag hits the lamp next to the bed, sending it to the floor. The lamp, which is made of glass, shatter when it makes contact with the floor.

"Fuck." Dean mutters, knowing there's no way Sam and Bobby didn't hear that. And Dean can't stand the thought of disappointing his brother yet again today.

Dean exits the room, closing the door behind him. He closes his eyes, which doesn't help, the images only clearer against the darkness. Dean's eyes snap open, and he runs a shaky hand across his face. He needs to calm down.

Dean starts walking towards the stairs, running into his brother at the top of them.

"Hey. Do you know where Bobby keeps a broom or something. I accidently killed that ugly ass lamp by the bed." Dean grins, hoping Sam either buys it or just doesn't ask.

"Um...I don't know. You'd have to ask him." Sam replies, unable to match Dean's fake smile. He's too tired.

"Alright then. Let's go. Someone's supposed to be helping Bobby with the food. I'm starving." Dean doesn't wait for a response before making his way downstairs.

If Sam had more energy, he'd call Dean's bullshit. Sam just can't take all the avoidance and lies, and the walls, so he says nothing.

SPNSPNSPN

Dinner was long and awkward. Bobby trying to make small talk, but the topics of conversation dried up quickly.

Once dinner was done, and the kitchen was cleaned, Dean excused himself. He says something about being tired, and just wanted to take a quick shower and crash. And Dean's not lying, that's exactly what he's planning on doing. Hoping the night will be uneventful and peaceful.

Once Dean is gone, Bobby and Sam move to the living room. Bobby brings them each a beer.

"Anything you want to get off your chest?" Bobby asks, half done his beer. The silence went on for too long, Dean probably already in bed since the shower stopped running almost half an hour ago. So Bobby wants to get the ball rolling.

"I don't even know where I'd start Bobby. I feel any day now I could lose him. And I can't. When..." Sam stops, his throat getting tighter as tears start to sting his eyes.

Bobby wants to say something, something that would help ease the pain. But there are no words. So Bobby waits to see what Sam needs to say, and maybe then some weight will be lifted from his shoulders.

"When Jess died..." Sam voice cracks. He wants to stop. But if he does, he'd be just like Dean, letting his pain destroy him.

"It's okay Sam, take all the time you need." Bobby says, knowing the phrase is over used.

"I thought they were just dreams. Very vivid nightmares. But I was wrong, and I watched her burn. It felt like a hole was seared through my chest. It still hurts something, it doesn't go away." Tears start their journey his cheeks, and Sam doesn't bother trying to wipe them away. He knows it would be useless.

Bobby was shocked. He knew the same demon that took Mary from John, also killed Sam's girlfriend. He also knew they were both killed the same way. And as of recently Bobby learned that Sam has visions, and that there are still many unanswered questions as to why. But he didn't know about this, and it pains him to see how much the guilt seems to be tearing Sam apart.

"I never really understood until that moment." Sam continues, his voice pulling Bobby out of his shock.

"I use to hate him for how we grew up. But when Jessica became another victim of this fucking demon, I got it. I understood why it was so important."

Bobby doesn't need to ask, he knows exactly what Sam's talking about, and who. So Bobby just listens.

"You know..." Sam laughs lightly, sad, as he tries to wipe the tears from his face. The tears, however, have other pans as they continue down Sam's face.

"I think we both envied each other growing up. I didn't miss mom like Dean did. I never knew her, but I wanted to. I wish I even had just a sliver of a memory. But Dean, I think the fact he did have that normal life, even if only for a couple years, it broke that child. He turned off a lot of emotions so early on because of it. It's funny thought, wanting to exchange a pain for another just because we don't understand, and we hope it's a little less painful then what we have." Sam takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he's really trying to say.

"I'm sorry, you really don't have to listen to all my bitching and moaning. Dean would have made some smart-ass comment by now, and that would be the end of it." Sam quickly adds, wondering why Bobby is still sitting with him.

"It's fine Sam." Bobby hates the pain he sees in Sam, so he really doesn't mind. He feels completely out of his depth, but he's not going to drop the subject when Sam's talking.

"Look, we all get into hunting our own way, and it's always painful Sam. I know you didn't understand it when you were a kid. I also know Dean probably wishes he could've kept you clean of all the pain. But he and your father, they did what they thought was best at the time. Other times they did what helped them with the pain. Dean growing up too fast, taking care of you, and closing part of himself off, that all may seem unfair, but your brother probably needed to do all that. So this life and the pain and memories it brings didn't destroy him." Bobby explains sadly, his own reasons for getting into hunting pulling at his emotions.

"But the cutting, he started so young, and maybe it wasn't that bad back then...I donno. Isn't there a point where you need to lean on others before everything tears you into millions of unfixable shards. I can't watch my brother slip away like this, I can't. He's the only family I have left Bobby." Sam wants the tears to stop, along with the pain. Wondering how Bobby's putting up with all the chick-flick crap.

"I know." Bobby's never talked about it much, but maybe his story may help.

"You know, he blames himself for dad. That and everything else...maybe even things he hasn't told me, he's going to break under all the weight. What can I do?" Sam asks, desperate.

"I wish I had the answers Sam. You just have to be there for him. He won't let this destroy him, because protecting you is still the most important thing to him." Bobby can see Sam's mood change slightly at those words, and Bobby decides to explain himself better before Sam argues.

"I'm not saying that to make you feel like a burden or another weight one his shoulders. He doesn't want to hurt you, and he won't leave you. Your brother does need you Sam, even if he can't see all the reasons why yet." Bobby explains, hoping he's making sense.

"I know. I just wish he'd do something for himself, you know. Get better because he wants to, instead of doing it just for me." Sam feels a little calmer, the tears still running down his face, but slower now. He feels hopeless.

They sit in silence, neither sure what to say anymore. Bobby hates this, hates not knowing what to say to ease Sam's pain. Bobby takes a deep, calming breath. He hasn't talked about this in years, and it's always painful.

"You know, I don't talk about this often...but John and I, we got into hunting for similar reasons. We both lost our wives. Different circumstances, but I lost my wife because of a demon. I had no idea at the time, but I guess that's what connects us all and drive us to have that one speciality. Like Gordon Walker." Bobby's not sure it's wise to bring up Gordon, but he's just trying to buy some time and prove his point.

"But you're not a fucking nutcase." Sam mumbles. Sam almost flinches, looking up at Bobby apologetically. "Sorry. I'm...I'm sorry about your wife."

"We all have someone we lost because of this world most people still believe even exists. But my story is different. A demon wearing some poor..." Bobby stops, his emotions starting to rise. Tears stinging his eyes.

"A demon killed your wife?" Sam tries to help, not used to seeing the older man like this. Hell, he rarely saw his own father like this. But Sam was also confused, because if a demon killed Bobby's wife, how is the story different then his own, or his father's.

"A demon didn't kill my wife." Bobby's voice breaks, a tear finally breaking free.

"I don't..." Sam's confusion has pushed most of his other emotions aside. Well, besides concern, because Sam's never seen Bobby upset about something before that didn't relate to Sam and Dean.

"I'm not telling this right, I'm sorry." Bobby wipes the tear off his cheek.

"It's okay." Sam wipes a hand over his own face, most of his tears now gone...for now. Sam knows it's only a matter of minutes or just a simple subject change to get the tears up and running again.

"I didn't know what I know now back then. All I knew was that there was something very wrong with my wife. I didn't mean to...I just...I didn't know." Bobby's not sure if Sam can put his fragmented puzzle pieces together.

"A demon possessed your wife?" Sam asks, a kick to the gut at what that might mean. How the story may end makes Sam's stomach turn.

"I still don't really know why. To this day there's no reason for what happened. Then again, most demons crawling there way out of the pit only wants a warm body to possess. There's no motive behind it. Just a random fucking act that nearly destroyed me." Bobby takes another deep calming breath, trying to calm his nerves. Not sure if there is a point to this, if his story will help Sam out in his own grief at all.

"Shit. Bobby, I'm so sorry. But it wasn't your fault. It fucking sucks, it really sucks, but you had no idea." Sam feels a tightness in his chest again, knowing the conversation can easily jump into painful territory.

"Doesn't really make the guilt and pain go away though, does it?" Bobby asks, knowing the question is really directed at both of them.

"Bobby...I..." Sam feel like he can't get the words out. His throat is tight, so is his chest and he feel like he can't breath. He also can't make his brain come up with anything that could possibly answer the question and make Bobby feel better without bringing up his own guilt.

"You didn't know either Sam. We both were put into a crappy situation where we had no idea what the truth really was. We both lost someone we loved, and we both feel incredible guilt over it. I've tried dealing with it for so long, and it still eats me up inside on a daily basis...but some people...they made me see I couldn't do anything, it was beyond my control. And this...Jessica, you didn't know anymore than I did. You are a lot less guilty then I am because you never put a knife through the person you loved." Bobby hates having this conversation, because tears are stinging at his eyes. But he knows he needs to help Sam, and maybe they can both help each other through the pain that don't need to be carrying.

"I didn't say anything Bobby, I didn't do a damn thing. It's just as bad." Sam bites out, cringing as he realizes what his words really meant.

"Well, you're definitely using a different tactic then the others to try and convince me it wasn't my fault." Bobby laughs lightly as a few more tears run down his face. Bobby wipes them away and settles into the couch a little more relaxed, because maybe now they can really talk about what happened with Sam's girlfriend. Maybe now he can really try and help the boy.

"No, I didn't mean anything...you...it's not your fault." Sam replies quickly, not wanting Bobby to feel like he's ignoring his pain or putting more onto either situation.

"And it's not yours either Sam. We were both put in situations that we didn't understand and we both lost someone very important to us because of it. There was nothing either of us could have done." Bobby voice cracks slightly at the confession because it's the first time in years he's actually said the words out loud. Sure he's saying them mostly to help Sam, but its easing a bit of his own pain in the process.

"Fuck Bobby. This...I shouldn't...Dean needs me, and I'm just..." Sam begins to lose the battle he's fighting within himself and the tears start to pour down his face. Sam leans forwards in the couch, and buries his face in his hands.

"I know you want to help your brother and be strong. But it's okay to deal with what's tearing you up inside too." Bobby gently puts a hand on Sam's back, not sure what else to do. Bobby really hopes he can help both these boys before all their pain and secrets destroy them.

Sam can't even reply to that, his body is shaking with pain and grief that he rarely lets himself feel unless he's around Bobby. He can't dump this on Dean, he just can't. He needs to be the one Dean can confide in, and Dean can't do that if Sam's always falling a part like this. Sam feels like he's a little girl, always breaking down.

"It's okay Sam." Bobby says softly, rubbing comforting circles on Sam's back.

It's in moments like this where Bobby hates the world, and that boys like Sam and Dean had to learn at such a young age that demons and monsters are real.

Sam pulls in a shaky breath, trying to force back all his emotions and all his pain. He sits up, furiously rubbing his hands over his face, trying to get rid of the tears.

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam mumbles as the tears continues down his face, despite his best efforts.

"Okay, tonight was hard, on both of us. Why don't we just hit the sack, try to clear our heads a bit, and just have a relaxing day tomorrow, okay? We can even go into town or something, do something normal and stress free." Bobby rambles, feeling really out of his element now.

Sam laughs. "Normal...go to the movies, dinner, shop. Like Dean could sit through normal."

Bobby smiles. "You never know."

"Sounds good Bobby, thanks." Sam yawns, stretching his arms out. "Crashing does sound like a good idea."

Bobby and Sam make their way to bed, both psychically and emotionally exhausted. Bobby's not sure how tomorrow will go, but maybe a movie and an uneventful day is just what they all need...if it's even possible.

SPNSPNSPN

Dean barely gets any sleep before he's jolted back to reality, his skin crawling and his body shaking. The pills he took calmed his nerve enough for him to fall asleep but they weren't enough to keep his demons at bay.

Dean barely makes it to the bathroom in time to empty the content of his stomach into the toilet. After there is nothing left to throw up, Dean collapses backwards, leaning against the wall next to the toilet. Dean tries to will his body to calm down. He tries to get his mind to realize where it is, and that he's safe.

After what seems like a lifetime, Dean is relatively calm. Sweet and tears on his face and he still feels a little nauseous. Dean needs to get out of here, he can't stay cooped up at Bobby's for any longer and not slash himself a part. It's taking every strength Dean has not to pull himself to his feet and track down something sharp.

A hunt, that's what Dean needs. Dean is lucky, Sam and Bobby both crashed an hour ago. Both men exhausted from their emotionally draining conversation. First, Dean quietly tracks down Sam's laptop, which is luckily packed away in a bag in the living room. Unfortunately in the process, Dean finds Sam's small switchblade. The need courses through Dean's body, making his hands begin to shake.

Dean weighs his options, knowing Sam will be pissed regardless of what Dean decides to do in this moment. But sneaking out with Sam's laptop in order to find a hunt seems like the better choice, the one Sam may find it easier to forgive.

Dean then gets in his car and drives, needing to get into town, get an internet connection, find a hunt, and get back to Bobby's before either Sam or Bobby wake up. Dean, however, is unaware that Bobby woke up at the sound of the Impala's engine starting.

SPNSPNSPN

Sam wakes up, stretching out, groaning as his muscles stretch. He's still tired, but that probably has more to do with all the crying and talking with Bobby the night before than anything else. Sam slowly gets out of bed, throwing on a clean shift before making his way to Dean's room.

Sam's not really surprised to find Dean's room already empty. Dean's been waking up before Sam fairly often. Sam hates to think what wakes Dean up some of the time. But last night, Dean went to bed hours before he and Bobby crashed.

Sam then makes his way downstairs, smiling as he smells coffee as he approaches the kitchen. Sam has no idea how he'll ever repay the older man for being so generous and caring during these past few months. Their father's death may have destroyed them if it wasn't for Bobby.

"Morning Bobby." Sam sits down across from Bobby.

Sam's light mood instantly changes when he sees the slight scowl on Bobby's face. Bobby doesn't say anything, he just gets up, pours Sam a cup of coffee and then sits back down.

"Bobby? You okay?" Sam asks, worried last night might have been too much for Bobby. Like Bobby's now trying to find the nicest way to tell Sam to find his brother and get the hell out.

"Ya, I'm okay Sam. It's just that damn brother of yours." Bobby finally looks up from his coffee.

"What'd he do this time? He still claiming to give that car of his a tune-up just to avoid ya?" Sam smirks, knowing the reality of it really isn't that funny but the look on Bobby's face along with Dean's lame excuses makes it a little amusing.

"Nope. I wish he were out there fixing his damn car." Bobby grumbles, trying to figure out how to break the news to Sam without having the younger man freak the fuck out.

"Bobby? Where's my brother?" Yep, the humor of the situation is now completely gone and Sam is now starting to freak out.

"Must have had a nightmare or something. I heard him throwing up a little after we went to bed. I didn't want to scare him or anything, so I let him be. I thought if he really needed something, he'd wake you up." Bobby explains.

"Why didn't you wake me? What if he..." Sam feels sick.

"You can't always keep an eye on him Sam, that might just push him away faster. Trust me, I hope he didn't hurt himself last night, but it's out of our hands Sam." Bobby admits.

"He's never going to ask, Bobby. Dean Winchester doesn't ask for help." Sam grumbles, a little upset he's now slept through this twice. He only hopes last night wasn't as bad as the last time.

"He will, he's just a little more stubborn then most people." Bobby hates that he was too tired last night to get out of bed when he first heard Dean.

"Then what happened Bobby?" Sam asks, knowing there must be more to the story. "Where's Dean?"

"I must have fallen back asleep or something, I was a little tired. Out of it, you know." Bobby explains, trying to buy time before everything explodes.

"Ya." Sam mumbles, completely understanding. Sam feel into a deep sleep pretty quickly after he got to bed.

"He took off, I don't know where." So now Bobby decides to just jump straight to being blunt.

"What!" Sam exclaims loudly, getting to his feet.

"He'll be back." Bobby tries to reassure the panicked Winchester.

"You don't know that for sure Bobby." Sam doesn't know what to do, so he sits back down and buries his face in his hands.

"I do know. Come on Sam." Bobby reaches a hand over, placing on Sam's forearm. "It's Dean. Come on Sam. Look at me."

Sam reluctantly lifts his head at the pleading in the older man's voice. He knows Bobby's probably right. He's definitely thinking clearer.

"He's not going to leave you like that. He's in the same boat. You're the only family he has. He's not going to just up and leave you." Bobby waits, hoping to see the words sink in.

"Then where is he? Why just take off like this and not be back before we wake up. He must know I'd freak the fuck out." Sam rambles, needing to find. "I should call him."

Sam goes to get up again but Bobby stops him by putting a hand on his arm.

"I tried already, he didn't bring his phone with him. I'm surprised you slept through me calling his phone until I found it in his room." Bobby explains.

"Shit. This is so fucked. How am I helping him if I keep passing out like this." Sam forces himself to stay still even though his mind is screaming at him to get the fuck up and look for his brother.

Unaware to both men, Dean enters the house. He places Sam's laptop bag down by the door. He wishes he wasn't gone so long but it took him forever to find a wireless connection he could piggyback on. But he finally found some possible hunts, some actually pretty close. He'd rather put some distance from Bobby's for awhile but Sam may want to stay close.

Dean rubs a hand over his face, he's exhausted. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen in some serious need for coffee.

"Hey." Dean grumbles to Sam and Bobby as he walks towards the coffee.

The room is quiet as Sam and Bobby don't know what to say. Sam is angry, and Bobby is worried this whole thing is going to get ugly...fast.

Dean turns around slowly, feeling very uncomfortable by the silence. Both Sam and Bobby are just staring at him.

"Okay...I'm officially uncomfortable. What's going on?" Dean asks.

"Hey? That's it. That's all you got to say? Where the fuck have you been?" Sam grinds out, trying hard not to full on yell at his brother.

"Out." Dean shrugs, really not in the mood to argue, so he walks out of the kitchen and heads towards the living room.

"Son of a..." Sam gets up, almost knocking his chair over.

"Sam." Bobby pleads, wanting Sam to calm down a little before saying something he doesn't mean. But Sam ignores Bobby and follows Dean.

"Fuck." Bobby curses, getting up to follow.

"Dean! What the fuck." Sam calls out as he catch up to Dean in the living room.

"What Sam?" Dean asks, turning to face his brother.

Sam takes a deep breath. "Where have you been?"

"God, you sound like a fucking housewife. I was out. Why does this have to turn into a fucking argument?" Dean replies, wondering how he can possibly tell his brother what he was doing if he's already this pissed.

"Yes, because you've never taken off like this before. You haven't even gone out to the bars by yourself since getting me at Sanford, so I know that's not where you went." Sam argues, hating the words the minute they are spoken because of what they mean. Dean hasn't told him but Sam figured a long time ago there must be a reason Dean doesn't go off to the bars by himself. It makes Sam sick at what he just implied.

"Don't." Dean pleads, not wanting to get this close to the subject. Not now. Not around Bobby.

"I'm sorry." Sam deflates, his anger instantly gone. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Dean mumbles, sitting down on the couch, finally drinking some of his coffee.

"I just...you scared the crap out of me. We had no idea where you went. You didn't even take your phone with you." Sam stays where he is, not wanting to upset his brother.

Bobby stays quiet by the doorway, not sure if he should give the boys some privacy or if he should stay in case he needs to play referee later if things get heated.

"Where did you go?" Sam asks, calmer.

"I know you want to stay here a while, but I'm going a little stir crazy. I just...I needed to find us a hunt, or..." Dean stares at the coffee mug, ashamed by what he's implying. Hating that his brother has to see how weak and pathetic he really is.

"Dean...I thought...I don't know if a hunt is the best idea right now." Sam stumbles on his words, hating this entire situation.

"You think I can't do the job anymore?" Dean asks, a slight edge to his voice.

"No, just the last hunt...it kind of complicated things." Sam admits, not only talking about the complications it caused his brother, but himself as well.

"I'm just talking a simple hunt. This has nothing to do with the demon." Dean needs this or he won't be able to resist the urge next time.

"I could always come along, help you boys out." Bobby offers, not sure he wants the boys heading out so soon. They haven't been having the best track record with hunts since their father passed.

"No offense Bobby, but...I just..." Dean doesn't know how to tell the older man that he needs a break, needs space before Bobby learns all about Dean's dirty secrets.

"Need some space? Guess you had to get a new excuse sooner or later 'cuz I know there ain't nothing wrong with that car of yours." Bobby says, not wanting to sound angry or hurt but he's sure the boys can probably read him like an open book right now.

Sam hates the entire situation, but he shouldn't really be that surprised. Dean's never been to comfortable in one spot for too long. Especially when they aren't on a hunt. Sam knows that Bobby is also a factor. He knows his brother doesn't hate the man, but is more fearful of when the generosity will run out. When all his secrets are drawn to the surface, and Bobby changes his option of Dean, even though Sam knows that won't happen. It's just difficult to convince Dean otherwise.

"Sorry." Dean mumbles, suddenly feeling ashamed. The lack of sleep now taking an effect on Dean, and the fight is draining from him quickly.

"Is there one close by maybe?" Sam finally asks, when the silence becomes nearly unbearable.

Dean finally looks up from his coffee at Sam's words, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. Something Sam hasn't seen in a very long time, and it feels like a small kick to the chest.

"A possible spirit a state over, maybe a half day drive if you're behind the wheel, less than that if I am." Dean smirks, his smile not quite there.

Sam wants to cry, the joke is like the old Dean, but at the same time it seems forced. Like Dean thinks if he just acts like everything is fine, Sam will finally see him as a man again.

"Okay, I don't like it. I hate that you went out like this instead of just talking to me about it, and scaring the crap out of me. But if there is a hunt close by, maybe it won't hurt to check it out." Sam explains, really not wanting to leave Bobby's yet.

"And you boys can always call me if you run into something bigger than you can handle. No one would think any less of you." Bobby adds, the last statement clearly directed at Dean knowing how Dean may react.

"Thanks Bobby. Um...we can head out first thing tomorrow morning I guess." Sam stumbles, not really sure what else to say. There so much he wants to say, but for the life of him he doesn't even know where to begin.

"Alright, um...I'm beat, so I'm just going to crash for a bit. Wake me up for supper, if...well, if you want." Dean mumbles, gets up off the couch and leaves the living room before either of the other men can say anything.

"Well...that was...fun." Bobby says, breaking the silence.

Sam laughs, but it's cracked and broken. He walks over to the couch and collapses onto it. Bobby stays where he is, not sure if he should get too close. Bobby wants to respect Dean's choices, and Sam's, but that doesn't mean he likes it one bit. He hates to think of this new hunt causing them any problems like every hunt they've encountered since their father's passing.

"You okay with this Sam? Because you know, if you're not up for it, I'm sure you're brother will understand." Bobby continues, not sure where's Sam's head is at at the moment.

"No, I can't do that Bobby. I've been selfish, and stubborn lately, and pushy. If this is what Dean needs, then I need to put my own crap and issues aside right now. I need to be strong for him, because I know it's only a matter of time before he breaks." Sam replies, emotionally drained.

"I think he's been breaking a fair bit lately Sam, what he's doing now, this might just be running." Bobby admits, knowing it's probably not what Sam wants to hear.

"I know that Bobby. I know he's been having a lot more panic attacks lately, most of them happening when we aren't here. I know he's having nightmares, and he's not talking. But there's nothing I can do Bobby. I can't push him, because...I can't...I can't lose him Bobby." Sam's voice cracks, and he curses himself. Why is it that he wants to be there for his brother, but he's the one always breaking down.

"Okay. So you do this hunt. You call me the second anything get too personal, or too hard. Alright." Bobby states, hoping he's doing the right thing here.

"Ya. Um...do you need any help putting together something for supper?" Sam mumbles, not sure what to do right now.

"No, relax. Maybe talk to Dean?" Bobby suggests.

"Naw, um...I'll let him rest. I'm just going to take a look at what research he did when he snuck off." Sam says before leaving to get his laptop bag.

Bobby sighs, knowing there's nothing he can do right now except start looking for something to feed these boys. These days makes everything harder. They make Bobby hate the world these boys and himself were forced to see while other get to remain in the dark.

SPNSPNSPN

Sam gets his laptop bag by the front door where Dean left it. He gets his laptop and settles down on the couch in the living room. Despite pretty much falling into a deep sleep the minute his head hit the pillow last night, Sam feels suddenly exhausted.

Sam looks over the news articles and possible hunts Dean put together. Internet pages up, and notes taken. Sam can see that Dean is desperate for a hunt, because he rarely sees his brother do this much research.

Sam sighs and slumps into the couch more, feeling at a loss. He can see that there are some events that his brother bookmarked that look more like their kind of case then the one he can only assume is the one they are going to look into tomorrow. But those are all much further away. And as much as Sam wants to believe this will just be a simple case, and he wants it to be for his brother's sake, but Sam can't shake this feeling that he has in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that everything is going to get monumentally worst long before there's any sight of hope of things getting any better.

SPNSPNSPN

Dinner was silent and awkward. Dean kept to himself, staying in his room until dinner was ready. Dean then left back to his room the second he was done eating. Not a word was spoken.

Once Dean was gone, both Bobby and Sam look over at Dean's plate. Dean barely touched his food. Sam sighs, leaning back in his chair. Bobby wants to say so much to both boys, but he knows they both probably need some space.

"Hang in there kiddo." Bobby says to Sam, as he gets up from the table. He removes the dishes from the table, as Sam just sits there.

"I'm trying Bobby." Sam mumbles after a long pause of silence.

"I know you are boy. Now why don't you get some rest. I'm sure Dean will want to be gone first thing in the morning." Bobby replies before turning his attention to the dishes.

"I'm sorry Bobby." Sam feels defeated, hating that this has probably hurt the older man.

"Nothing to be sorry for Sam. I'm not taking this personally. It's okay. If I don't see you boys off, call me when the case if over." Bobby replies, not turning to face Sam.

"Okay." Sam doesn't know what else to do so he leaves the room.

Sam decides, against everything screaming in his head, to just go to bed. He wants to talk to Dean, hell just make sure he's okay. But if his brother needs a moment of the old days, having a hunt to distract him from everything that's eating away at him, then for the moment, that's all Sam can give him.

SPNSPNSPN

Bobby lets Sam leave, knowing he should make sure the youngest Winchester is alright. But for some reason, Bobby wasn't too worried about Sam. He knows Sam is in pain, but he also knows Sam isn't building himself walls to block himself off from the world. If he needs to talk, he will. It's Dean Bobby needs to talk to, and seeing as the boys will probably leave before Bobby can get up in the morning, in an attempt to avoid any awkward goodbyes, Bobby needs to talk to Dean now.

After the dishes are cleaned up and put away, Bobby makes his way upstairs. He might have to settle for only an argument, and he hopes Sam sleeps through it. Even if Sam may hate himself for it later, Bobby can deal with Sam later.

Bobby walks to Sam's room first, and sees Sam curled up in his bed on top of the covers. Sam's back is to Bobby, but the older man is fairly certain Sam's asleep.

Bobby then makes his way to Dean's room, and he can see a low light coming from under the door. Bobby slowly pushes the door open. Dean is sitting on the bed, back to the door, reading through his father's journal. The only light on in the room, is a lamp on the bedside table that Bobby had to replace.

"You're not going to break this lamp, are ya?" Bobby asks.

"Shit." Dean yelps, jumping to his feet and turning to face Bobby. "Ever hear of knocking?"

"Sorry. You're brother's asleep, and I thought I'd come by and see how everything was. Plus, kind of curious if I should stock up on cheap bedside lamps for when you and your brother stay here." Bobby rambles, hoping to have a little bit of light conversation before he dives into the deep end.

"It was an accident Bobby. Besides, that lamp was an ugly old thing, I ain't gonna miss it." Dean mumbles his response, having a pretty good idea the older man knows the lamp wasn't broken by accident, not a complete accident anyway. Dean places his father's journal on the bedside table, and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Ya, I suppose maybe you're right." Bobby stays leaning against the doorframe, not really sure what he intends on tackling during this conversation.

"Do you need anything Bobby?" Dean asks, after an awkward silence. Dean doesn't want to deal with this right now, he just wants to let his brother catch some sleep, and then they are out of here first thing in the morning.

"Figured you were probably planning on skipping out first thing in the morning, trying to avoid saying bye and all. Thought, what the hell, I'll talk to you before you try and give me the slip." Bobby admits. He doesn't want to be too tough on the boy, but something touch is the only option.

"I don't really know what you want me to say here Bobby." Dean feels at a lose, not sure what is happening. Not sure if Bobby's pissed at him or if he's trying to start a serious conversation. Neither option feels too settling for Dean at the moment.

"I just want to make sure this is the right thing, running off to a hunt. There's nothing wrong with admitting you need help and taking a break." Bobby says, feeling a little uneasy. Knowing the younger man will probably snap or shut down on him any minute.

"Thanks, Bobby, really. But I'm fine. We've taking enough of a break, and I'm sure you've been wonders for Sammy but...I'm great." Dean replies, slapping on a fake smile and getting off the bed. He needs to do something to get away from Bobby right now, he knows the older man's intentions are in the right place, he just can't deal with them right now.

"You know I'm aware of some of your problems, and I'm also not a complete moron. I know you're not fine." Bobby replies, knowing that might be a little harsh.

"Alright. Good talk Bobby." Dean is fully intended on walking out of the room, and going anywhere to avoid the man.

"No, not quite, listen to me." Bobby cuts in, blocking Dean's exit. He motions for Dean to go back to his bed, as he pulls the chair next to the door towards Dean's bed.

Dean walks back to his bed, his shoulder's slumped slightly, and his body stiff. Dean sits down on the edge of the bed, as Bobby pulls the chair towards him, blocking his exit. Bobby sits down.

"I know you hate that Sam's confided in me about things concerning you, but he never said anything to me about something I didn't know about. I know there are things I'm still in the dark about, and both your brother and I know it's up to you whether or not you want me to know what's causing you all this pain." Bobby explains, feeling a little better about getting some things out in the open.

"That's great in theory. And don't get me wrong, I wish you didn't know what you know. But I'm not mad at Sam for talking to you. If he needs to talk, I'm glad he has you since he clearly...look, I got a half days drive to do tomorrow and I'm not really in the mood to do this right now." Dean feels defeated, as if they've had this conversation hundreds of times already.

"He wants to talk to you, Dean, he does. He just doesn't want to bother you. Doesn't want you to ever feel like you have to confide in him because he's confiding in you. If you ask me, you're both just stubborn." Bobby mumbles the last bit. He understands Sam's logic, but he still think he shouldn't avoid his brother.

"That's great Bobby, really. But I don't need this right now, especially not from you. I don't need, nor do I want your fucking pity. I've handled myself fine for years, long before you clued into anything. So why don't you mind your own fucking business." Dean snaps, getting to his feet once again. Dean goes to leave the room.

"I may not have known about the cutting, but I was never blind boy." Bobby replies, staying where he is. He knows Dean hasn't left the room yet, but he also knows the conversation is pretty much over.

Dean freezes at the door, not sure what the older man means. He can't seem to make himself take those finally steps needed to get out of the room.

"Long before your daddy died, I knew you were in pain. Growing up the way you did. The responsibilities thrown on your shoulders at such a young age. The things you lost. I may not have pried, or asked too often, but I knew you were sad more often then not. It broke my heart kid." Bobby finally turns around to face Dean, but he can't read his face. Dean's face is a mask, and Bobby's knows the conversation is now officially over.

"I'll let you get some rest." Bobby adds, getting up off the chair and leaving the room.

Dean just stands there, not sure what to say. He always knew Bobby was more aware of things than Dean ever gave him credit for. And he knew they spent a lot of time at the man's house growing up when he was too young to go on hunts with his father. But Bobby was right, he never pushed. Never forced Dean to talk about anything, always gave him space. But now, everything is a mess, everything has changed. Those few left around him are concerned, and constantly trying to make sure Dean's okay. It's suffocating.

SPNSPNSPN

As everyone suspected, Dean woke up extra early. Only really allowing himself to sleep for a couple hours. Dean packed up his and Sam's stuff into the impala as quickly and quietly as he could before waking Sam up.

Sam wanted to wake Bobby, let him know they were taking off, but Dean didn't give him the time. Sam figured this may happen, but it doesn't stop him from feeling guilty. Bobby's been a great help, and a great friend. But Sam knows that for Dean it all makes him uncomfortable.

The drive is long and awkward. Sam wanted to be pissed that they left Bobby's without saying anything, but he couldn't bring it up. He knew it would just make the car ride more awkward and long. So instead he stayed quiet, letting Dean's music fill the car. And occasionally Dean would talk about the case.

The problem with this case though, it wasn't as simple as either of the boys anticipated. And before long, they both found themselves in a pretty sticky situation...behind bars. Sam was starting to freak out not being able to get to his brother, a whole bunch of situations running through his head. Mainly he wanted to know how his brother got so stupid that he got caught standing over Karen's dead body.

Dean on the other hand, was freaking out for a whole new set of reasons. He couldn't get locked away for this, it would kill him. Being away from his brother, being surrounded by a bunch of men. There's no way he'd survive. Which just makes Dean feel weak and pathetic all over again, because before the incident he never would be worried in a situation like this.

Currently Dean found himself yet again in the interrogation room, praying that his brother was doing alright. He was able to figure some stuff out in between getting grilled by the cops, and he was able to get a message to Sam with his assigned lawyer Jeff. Now all Dean can hope is that Sam can get out of custody some how so that he is free to get this case finished.

Now all Dean had to do was distract everyone so Sam could get out. So he does the only thing he can think of, let everyone think he's ready to confess.

A few moments later everyone's pilled into his interrogation room. Pete Sheridan, who Dean already thinks is a total prick, has set up a camera.

Once Ballard and Jeff re-enter the room, Pete gets started.

"Couselor, your boy decided to confess." Pete says, with a confide grin.

"Mr. Winchester, I advise against that strongly." Jeff pleads.

Dean ignores his lawyer, knowing he's only trying to do his job. But he needs to buy his brother some time. Some time to get this case closed, and then figured out a way to get him the hell out of here before he freaks out.

"Talk directly into the camera. Start by stating your name for the record." Pete explains as he presses record on the camera.

Dean clears his throat, hoping this is the right approach. Or wondering if this is going to get him locked away indefinitely. Ballard seems like a more reasonable cop than her partner Sheridan, so Dean can only pray that while she's around things won't get out of hand.

"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did. Or rather, what did. Of course, I can't be sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory is that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit." Dean explains, waiting for someone to laugh at him, or punch him in the face.

"Excuse me?" Detective Ballard asks, clearly confused.

"You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost? Tony Giles saw it. I'll bet you cash money Karen did too. But the interesting thing is the word it leaves behind. For some reason, it's trying to tell us something. But communication across the veil ain't easy. Sometimes the spirit...they get things jumbled. You remember 'redrum'? Same concept. It can be word fragments, and other times..." Dean pauses to pull out a piece of paper with his word combinations on them.

Dean doesn't allow Diana Ballard's stunned expression stop him, but he makes a note that she seems to have a different reaction to what he's saying then the rest of the group.

"It's anagrams. See, at first, we thought this was a name...Dana Shulps. But now, we think it's a street...Ashland. Whatever's going on, I bet it started there." Dean smiles, as he finishing, looking away from the camera and looking towards Pete. Knowing Pete is not going to be happy at all.

"You arrogant bastard. Tony and Karen were good people, and you're making jokes." Pete is getting pretty angry.

"I'm not joking, Ponch." Dean replies seriously.

"You murdered them in cold blood, just like that girl in St. Louis." Pete states.

Dean looks back to the camera. "Oh ya, that wasn't me either. That was a shapeshifter creature that only looked like me."

Pete grabs Dean and slams him against the wall. Dean tries not to panic as Pete presses his full weight against Dean. He knows this is nothing like before, he knows he just pissed the cop off. But Dean knows that doesn't matter, it still brings back bad thoughts and panic. Dean tries to stay cool, tries to keep his game face on.

"Pete, that's enough!" Diana yells at Pete.

"You asked for the truth." Dean says as Pete lets go of him.

"Lock his ass up." Pete yells, leaving the room with Diana.

Dean tries to calm his nerves as an officer in the room turns Dean round, and puts some handcuff on him. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep calming breath, praying that his brother can get him out of his as fast as possible.

SPNSPNSPN

Diana and Pete go straight to Sam's room to find him missing, Pete is pissed but Diana is surprising calm. So Diana lets Pete leave to blow off some steam. Diana wants to believe these boys are innocent, but she wasn't prepared for the evidence she would receive to prove the boys are telling the truth.

After Diana has her own encounter with the spirit in the women's washroom, and she allows herself to freak out a little. Diana then asks an officer to bring Dean back to one of the interrogation room.

Dean is a little concerned when he's pulled back into an interrogation room so quickly. He just got himself calmed down in his cell. But he's relieved to see Detective Diana Ballard enter the room, instead of her partner.

"Can we make this quick? I'm a little tired. It's been a long day, you know, with your partner assaulting me and all." Dean says quickly, trying to remain an act of his old cocky self.

"I wanna know more about that stuff you were talking about earlier." Diana asks, clearly nervous and shaken.

"Time Life. "Mysteries of the Unknown". Look it up." Dean replies, trying to stay cool, but a little intrigued.

"Let's pretend for the moment you're not entirely insane. What would one of these...things be doing here?" She asks, not letting Dean's remarks stop her from getting answers about what she witnessed.

"A vengeful spirit?" When she nods, Dean continues. "Well, they're created by violent deaths. And then they come back for a reason, usually a nasty one. Like revenge on the people that hurt them."

"And uh...these spirits...they're capable of killing people?" Diana asks, as she brings up a hand to scratch the back of her neck.

That's when Dean notices the dark marks on her wrists.

"Where did you get that?" Dean asks, motioning to her wrist.

Diana pulls her sleeve up, and looks even more freaked out.

"I don't know. It wasn't there before." She states.

"You've seen it, haven't you? The spirit."

"How did you know?"

"Because Karen had the same bruises on her wrists. And I'm willing to bet that if you look at Giles' autopsy photos, he's got them too. It's got something to do with the spirit. I don't know what." Dean rambles, as Diana turns away from him.

Dean knows this is a hard thing to accept, it always hard for him to explain it to new people. He hates that he has to shattered the illusion of the world, and reveal that there are worst things out there that can destroy the world.

"I know. You think you're going crazy. But let's skip that part, shall we? Because the last two people who saw this thing died pretty soon after. You hear me?" Dean continues, needing to get Diana's attention.

"You think I'm gonna die?" Diana asks, trying to calm her nerves.

"You need to go to Sam. He'll help." Dean explains, knowing this might be the thing to really screw him over in the end, or it could be the thing to help him.

"You're giving your brother up?" Diana's confused.

"Go to the first motel listed in the yellow pages. Look for Jim Rockford. It's how we find each other when we're separated. You can arrest him if you want. Or you can let him save your life."

SPNSPNSPN

Sam was a little pissed when he found out Dean told Detective Ballard how to find him. He was on the phone with Bobby explaining what had happened, and how freaked out he was when the detective showed up at his motel room door. Bobby said to call him back as soon as he could, or he would start traveling their way if he doesn't hear from them in the next couple hours.

Sam was, however, relieved to find out that Detective Ballard was here to help.

"These showed up after you saw it?" Sam asks, as he examines Diana's wrists.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Alright. Then you're gonna have to tell me exactly what you saw."

"You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you."

"Alright, well, you know what? You can arrest me later, after you live through this. But right now, you've gotta talk to me. Okay?" Sam rambles, hoping to god that he can someone get through this and get his brother out of custody before Dean has a freak out.

Diana nods, knowing there is something bigger going on here than she likes to admit.

"Okay, great. Now, this spirit...what did it look like?" Sam asks.

"She was um...really pale, and her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were this deep, dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. There was just...a lof of blood." Diana explains.

"You know what, here. I've been researching every girl who's ever died or gone missing from Ashland Street." Sam explains, as he passes Diana a pile of photos.

"How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes and booking photos?"

"You have your job, I have mine. Here, I need you to look through these. Tell me if you recognize anyone."

Sam and Diana take a seat at the table in the room. Sam waits as Diana looks through the photos, trying not to think about how his brother is doing all by himself in a locked jail cell.

After a moment, Diana finally finds the girl she's looking for in a mug shot.

"This is her. I'm sure of it." Diana hands the photo to Sam.

"Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago?" Sam's not sure how helpful this may be, since it's not a murder. But he has to hope it's enough to close this case within the next few hours.

"But I don't even know her. Why would she come after me?" Diana asks.

"Well, before her death, she was arrested twice for dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Pete and I did, before homicide."

"You ever bust her?" Sam asks, holding up the photo for Diana to get another look at it.

"Not that I remember."

"It says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. The police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we've gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find a body." Sam tells her, as she starts to get up. Ready to get this thing over with.

"What?" Diana asks, not sure what they could possibly do.

"Well, we've gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest." Sam tells her.

"Of course it is."

SPNSPNSPN

Sam and Diana were able to find the body, but Diana wasn't prepared for what they found. As they are standing over the body, Diana notices a necklace that Claire is wearing.

"That necklace mean something to you?" Sam asks, when he notices Diana's interest in it.

"I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom-made over on Carson street." Diana pulls out the necklace she is currently wearing, that was hidden under her shirt. It's the same necklace that is around Claire's neck. "I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me."

"Now this all makes perfect sense." Sam replies, starting to feel more nervous. He needs to get his brother out of custody.

"I'm sorry?" Diana asks, confused.

"Yeah. You see, Claire's not a vengeful spirit. She's a death omen." Sam explains, as everything becomes clear to him. All the new information doesn't sit well with Sam, as it implies Dean may be in bigger danger than he thought.

"Excuse me?" Diana is still not understanding any of this.

"Claire's not killing anyone. She's trying to warn them. You see, sometimes spirits...they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killing is...Detective, how much do you know about your partner?" Sam asks, dreading the answer.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lock-up. Obviously, it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product." Diana explains.

"Someone like a heroin dealer. Someone like Claire."

"It's possible, but...Pete, he wouldn't...it can't be Pete." Diana tries to explain, not wanting this to be true.

"I understand it's hard to except that you don't truely know the people you surround yourself with. But if this is true, then my brother could be in some serious danger. I know you may still think we're the bad guys, but we're not. And my brother...he's been through a lot. A lot of stuff that's just because life threw some crazy stuff at him, and other because all he's been doing since he's been four years old if look after other people. So please, you need to help me get him out of custody. Please." Sam pleads.

Diana's not sure what to do, but she knows something's not right here. So she agrees to find out what's really going on.

Diana and Sam go back to Diana's police car, and Diana agrees to make a few calls to see what's happening with Dean. She's not expecting to hear what she does.

"Pete just left the precinct. With Dean." Diana tells Sam.

"What?" Sam is starting to freak out. He's not sure Dean can handle something like this. Not because he's a bad hunter, because he's one of the best. But because his memories might get the better or him.

"He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling, but he won't answer the radio." Diana replies, knowing this eliminates any doubts she may have had that Pete was innocent in all this.

"Radio? He took a county vehicle?" Sam asks, praying that he can get to his brother on time.

"Yeah."

"Then it should have a LoJack. You've just gotta get it turned on."

Sam lets Diana locate where Pete is taking Dean, while Sam give Bobby a call. He needs Bobby's help.

SPNSPNSPN

Dean was starting to get nervous. He had no idea if his brother was alright, and he had no idea where he was going. If he got to St. Louis, he's screwed. But Dean is starting to get the feeling that Pete may have other plans for him, as they seem to be taking a scenic route.

When the police van stops in a forested area, Dean tries to concentrate on breathing.

"Pee break? So soon? You know, you might wanna get your prostate checked." Dean says to Pete, trying to remain cool.

As Pete gets out of the vehicle, Dean can feel his panic start up a little bit. "Son of a bitch."

When Pete opens the door, Dean tries to remain cool. He tries to keep up his cocky cool act that he's been sporting ever since he was arresting, hoping that help him get through whatever is about to happen.

"Hey, I'm cool in the van. You go do what you gotta do." Dean jokes, but Pete still grabs him out of the van.

Pete slams Dean against the van, using the weight of his body and his grip on Dean's shirt to keep him in place. The situation is similar to the interrogation room, except no one here to pull Pete off Dean, and that's really starting to freak Dean out as he fights hard to keep his memories at bay.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch. You think those people in St. Louis are gonna buy that crap you're peddling? Here's the thing. You're not gonna make it to St. Louis. You're gonna die trying to escape. Doesn't mean I can't have some fun with you first." Pete boasts.

Dean starts to have problems breathing as his mind flashes to other men that said similar things to him. His mind barely even processes it when Pete punches him in the face. Dean falls to the ground, and curls up into a fetal position. Dean pulls his arms to his chest as he tries to breath, wanting Pete to just kill him.

"Please. Don't." Dean pleads, no longer able to keep up the act of his former cocky self.

Pete takes out his gun, but Dean doesn't even notice. He barely notices when Diana and Sam run to the scene.

"Pete! Put the gun down!" Diana yells, as she and Sam approach Pete. Diana has her gun drawn and pointed at Pete.

Sam is trying not to freak out, he can see the state his brother is in. He can tell his brother is in the midst of having a panic attack. And until Pete lowers his weapon, there's no way he can get to his brother without being shot.

"Diana? How'd you find me?" Pete asks, as he turns to face Diana and Sam.

"I know about Claire."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Put the gun down!" Diana yells again, feeling slightly conflicted about what she might have to do.

"No, I don't think so. You're fast. Pretty sure I'm faster." Pete boast, feeling pretty safe in his situation.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I didn't do anything Diana"

"It's a little last for that." Diana shakes her head, she can't believe she never saw it before.

"It wasn't my fault. Claire was gonna turn me in, I had no choice." Pete defends.

"And Tony? Karen?" Diana asks.

"Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, then he got skittish. Then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess. I had to clean it up. I just panicked."

Sam tries to make eye contact with his brother, but Dean has his eyes close. Sam is freaking out, he doesn't have his brother's pills with him, how could he be so stupid. In the midst of everything he left them at the motel. And now, they are out in the middle of nowhere, and who knows what's going through his brother's head.

"How many more people are gonna die over this Pete?" Diana asks, bring Sam back to the current situation and out of his thoughts.

"There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We can pin the whole thing on him, okay? No trial, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag." Pete explains.

Sam feels tears welling up in his eyes, as he thinks how the old Dean would have responded to such a thing. He needed to get to his brother, now.

"No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you." At that, Diana lowers her gun. "Thanks you."

As Pete turns to re-aim his gun at Dean, Diana shoots Pete in the back. Pete falls to the ground, dropping his gun. Diana approaches Pete, clearly pissed off.

"Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass." Diana sneers.

Sam didn't wait to see if Pete was dead, or just injured. He didn't pay attention to the scuffle between the injured Pete and Diana, or Claire showing up, or the second shot that kills Pete. Sam just needs to get to his brother.

When Pete is dead, Diana isn't sure what to do as she sees Dean still huddled on the ground and Sam whispering to him.

"Come on Dean, please. You gotta relax. You're safe. Nothing is going to happen to you." Sam whispers to his brother.

"Is he okay?" Diana asks, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam jumps at the contact, wiping a tear from his face.

"No, he's having a panic attack and he's not listening to me."

"Okay, I'll give you space." Diana takes a few steps back, not wanting to crowd the brothers.

Sam gets extra low to the ground, and gently places his hands on either side of Dean's face.

"Dean, open your eyes and look at me." Sam pleads.

"I...I can't." Dean replies weakly, trying to breath.

"You're not there Dean, you're safe with me. Just open your eyes."

Dean slowly opens his eyes, and tears run down his face.

"That's it. Just breath okay. Pete's dead, he wasn't trying to...you're going to be okay." Sam rambles, pushing his own panic and tears aside.

After what seems like an hour, Dean finally calms down enough for Sam to help him sit up. Sam leans his brother against the car, and after a few more moments Dean can breath again.

"Sorry." Dean mumbles as he catches his breath, wiping the tears from his face.

"It's okay. What happened?" Sam asks.

"Not a lot before you showed up. I guess I just freaked. Pathetic I know." Dean mumbles.

"No, not pathetic. Come on, let's get you up." Sam doesn't want to push the subject, because he can't risk Dean freaking out again when he doesn't have any pills. Sam feels they got pretty lucky tonight.

"Everything okay?" Diana asks, standing by Pete's body.

"Ya." Sam replies, unsure. "You doing all right?"

"Not really. The death omen, Claire...what happens to her now?" Diana replies, not sure how to take all this.

"It should be over. She should be at rest." Sam explains.

Dean clears his throat, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. "So, uh...what now, Officer?"

"Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say there's a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed." Diana explains.

"You could take care of that for us?" Sam asks, kind of surprised.

"I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges...that's another story. I can't help you with that. Unless...I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could tell them that the suspects escaped." Dian continues, fighting back a grin.

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam says, before he can really think about it.

"Yeah, she's sure Sam." Dean answers quickly, needing to get out of here fast.

"Okay." Sam wishes he could say more, but he's concerned about Dean. He knows that he's not okay yet, even though he got the panic attack under control.

"I just want you guys out there, doing what you do best. Trust me, I'll sleep better at night. Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for both of you right now. Get out of here. I've got to radio this in." Diana doesn't leave Pete's side, wanting the boys to leave so she can sort all this out.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where my car is by chance?" Dean asks, knowing it's probably not what he should be focused on right now. But if his mind starts thinking about anything else, he'll freak out again.

"It's at the impound yard on Robertson." Diana notices the look on Dean's face. "Don't even think about it."

"It's okay, don't worry. We got someone coming, he'll help. Thanks." Sam smiles, as he pulls Dean away.

Once they are a good distance away from Diana, Dean finally asks the question. "Do we really have someone coming?"

"I had to Dean. What was I supposed to do?" Sam is already defensive, as he knows they have a long walk ahead of them and really doesn't want to spend their time fighting.

"Well, were is he?" Dean asks, not really wanting to see Bobby again so soon, but he can admit they are kind of out of options.

"I donno, I'll give him a call." Sam says, as he pulls out his cellphone and dials Bobby's cell.

Dean continues to walk next to his brother as Sam talks to Bobby. Dean doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants his pills, and some alcohol to wash it all down. Have a boring dreamless night sleep in a nice bed. But he can't have that. He knows his brother isn't going to let him out of his sight for awhile. And he really doesn't want to talk about what just happened.

Sam hangs up the phone, and looks over at his brother. He can tell Dean is fighting with something right now, but he's not sure if it's wise to confront Dean about what happened earlier.

"Bobby says he's about an hour out. He's going to meet us at the main road. We may have to avoid some cop cars on the way, but other than that we should be okay. Just got a bit of a walk ahead of us." Sam explains.

"Are you going to tell him?" Dean asks, knowing it's stupid to bring it up since then it will start a conversation he doesn't really want to have.

"Tell him what?" Sam asks, confused.

"Come on Sam, I know you're not dumb." Dean snaps, not wanting to get into this.

"Fine, ya, I probably will. Because you know what Dean, you really freaked me out back there. What happened?" Sam demands, knowing he shouldn't be angry or frustrated with Dean. He knows Dean is only being defensive right now.

"Nothing, it was nothing." Dean's anger deflates, and he stares down at his feet as they continue to walk.

"It wasn't nothing." Sam mumbles.

"Can we not talk about it now. I'd rather avoid having another panic attack while we're trying to avoid the cops." Dean rambles, needing any excuse to stop his brother from pushing.

"Okay, fine."

They continue to walk, occasionally having to duct in the bushes to avoid a cop car. Eventually they meet up with Bobby, who drops them off at their motel room while he goes to steal the Impala out of impound. Neither of the boys really talk to each other as they pack up their stuff. Dean knows this means they are probably going back to Bobby's, and that makes him feel even weaker and pathetic. He just wants all this to be over.

SPNSPNSPN

TBC

Hope you all enjoyed the new chapter. Reviews are amazing and always welcome. I may not have a lot of free time in June to get a new chapter out, but I will try.

Thanks!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the boys, or anything related to the show. This is all just for fun.

Thanks to 2People, rholou, gr8read, marchia43, DeansMuse for the awesome reviews.

Again, self-edited. All mistakes are my own. I wanted to get this chapter out quickly as it's been too long, but I will get the story worked on with a beta-reader soon.

Sorry again for all the delays, had a bit of a hard time writing this chapter. So it's a little shorter than some of the chapters before it. But hope you all still enjoy it.

Note: I didn't feel the boys would jump back into hunting, and they might not get back to hunting for a while. So the events had to change a little from what happened in the episode of the same title. Hope you still all enjoy the chapter.

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**Chapter 19 - Crossroad Blues**

The boys are silent as they made their way to the main road, avoiding a few cop cars a long the way. Bobby's waiting for them, and they drive to the outskirts of town. Nobody speaks at all. Dean usually loves the silence, but right now it's nearly driving him insane.

Once Bobby spots a hotel, he pulls into the parking lot.

"Okay, so it's late and we still got to get your car and have an 8 plus hour drive back to my place. Dean, I suggest you get some rest. Sam, you come with me. I'll need someone to drive the Impala back here once I break it out of the impound." Bobby explains before getting out of the car. Bobby deals with getting them a room while leaving the boys in the car.

"I should go with Bobby." Dean mumbles.

"Ya, cuz that wouldn't be the most awkward drive ever. Oh wait, I think we just had it. Are you crazy Dean? I have a better shot going and you know it. More cops out there will be looking for you as opposed to me." Sam explains, trying to keep his anger in check.

"Whatever" Dean doesn't want to have this conversation. He just wants to get a room, and maybe watch some tv. Anything to take his mind off of what happened, especially since he'll have to wait for Bobby and Sam to get the Impala before he can get his pills.

"Are you going to be okay until we get back?" Sam asks, a little concerned. He knows Dean is a little better now, but if that changes while he's gone, Dean doesn't have access to his pills until they get the Impala back.

"I'm a grown man Sammy, I think I can take care of myself."

"Right. Well, just call me if you need anything okay." Sam get out of the car, and Dean slowly follows.

They meet Bobby by the front of the car. "Got two rooms. Dean, here's your key, get some rest while we're gone alright. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean mumbles, not meeting the older man's eyes.

After an awkward silence, Bobby throws Sam a set of keys. "Alright Sam, let's hit the road. I'd like to get some shut eye in too before we head back to my place in the morning."

Bobby gets in the car, and Sam turns to face Dean.

"I know you probably don't want to go back to Bobby's since we've been going there a lot since..." Sam doesn't get to finish his sentence, as Dean cuts him off.

"It's fine, whatever. Go get my car already. I'll be in our room." Dean doesn't wait for Sam to respond, he turns and starts making his way towards his room.

Sam sighs, and watches his brother leave before he gets into the car with Bobby.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean feels slightly nervous and claustrophobic in the motel room. He's all alone, and years ago, this would not be a problem. And Dean curses all the terrible things that have happened to him and his family over the course of just a few years.

Lucky for Dean, it's not too long before Sam enters their motel room alone. Dean is sitting in front of the television, not really paying attention to the program that's on. Sam just looks at Dean funny, and throws their bags onto the empty bed.

"No problems with the cops?" Dean asks, needing to make the jump for his bag/pills seem not so needy and pathetic.

"No, we were able to get the car out pretty easily actually." Sam sits down on the empty bed, effectively blocking Dean's path to his bag. Sam can tell Dean is a little jumpy still, but he'd rather have some small talk now before his brother shuts down again.

"How's Bobby?" Dean mumbles, turning back to face the tv once Sam is in the way of his bag.

"Fine."

"Good."

"What's wrong Dean?" Sam finally asks, not able to ignore it anymore.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm not going to have a moment every second of everyday alright. I'm still capable of being normal most of the time, okay!" Dean stands, clearly angry and upset.

"I didn't mean anything by it Dean. I'm sorry." Sam shakes his head, of course he couldn't have a normal small conversation with his brother. His brother is still not over whatever happened with the cop before he got there.

"Shut up Sam. Just...don't." Dean starts pacing the room.

"You want to tell me what happened now?" Sam asks.

"What's there to tell. Crazy ass detective wanted to kill me, pin all his crimes on me...and like the pathetic freak that I am, I jumped to conclusion and had a panic attack. Happy?" Dean collapses back onto the bed, keeping his back to Sam.

"No, I'm not happy. Why would that make me happy?" Sam wants to get up, and be able to see his brother's face. But he knows that will only make Dean yell that much more, and freak out.

"Look, I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower and then just crash." Dean gets up, walks around Sam to grab his bag, before going into the bathroom.

Sam jumps as the bathroom door slams shut. He shouldn't worry, Sam went through Dean's bag before bringing it inside to make sure there was nothing he could harm himself with. Only thing besides clothes and their father's journal in Dean's bag is his pills.

Inside the bathroom, Dean throws his bag to the ground and turns on the water. He needs to get clean, he feels like his skin is on fire and million little bugs are crawling all over him.

Dean quickly strips, and gets into the shower. The shower should burn his skin, but Dean barely registers the heat. He quickly washes his body before turning off the water, he knows he can't spend too much time in the bathroom without alarming his brother.

After cleaning off, Dean gets out of the shower. He slowly gets dress, finding his bottle of pills in the process. The bottle is still pretty new, not a lot of pills missing. Dean quickly throws two pills into his mouth, and swallows them. Taking a deep breath, Dean picks up his things and exits the bathroom.

Sam is still sitting on the bed, but he now seems ready for bed. Dean throws his bag to the ground, keeping the pill bottle in hand.

"Look Sammy. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around right now. But...I really can't get into this tonight. I'm exhausted, and really just want to sleep."

"Okay." Sam replies, not looking at his brother. He wants to push, he wants to know what happened in more detail. But he respects his brother for actually bringing this up. So he'll respect his brother, and give him more time to come to terms with whatever happened.

"Really? That's it? No lecture? No arguments?" Dean sits down on the bed, hiding the pill bottle under his pillow.

Sam turns to look at his brother. "No, you need time, I'll give that to you. I haven't exactly been the easiest person to be around either I'm sure. So rest, and we'll talk more later. At Bobby's. He's probably going to get us up at the crack of dawn. So might as well get a few hours sleep in. It's already almost 2 in the morning already."

Sam lays down, turning off the light. Dean just stays sitting on his bed, frozen. He knew they were going to head back to Bobby's, but Dean's not sure he can handle that right now. Handle taking a break from hunting yet again. Every time they do, Dean freaks out and has a meltdown. He hates feeling weak. Then again, the hunts they've decided to check out haven't really helped situations much other. So Dean shuts down, builds the walls back up, and get into bed. Closing his eyes, and hopes the pills will keep away the demons tonight, and not lock him inside his own hell.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

There's a knock on the door at 5 in the morning, the sun is barely above the trees this early. Sam groans, as he stretches out in his bed, only getting not even 4 hours of sleep last night. He looks over to Dean's bed to see he's still past out. Sam smiles, glad his brother got some sleep.

"You boys better be up! We leave in 10 minutes. Get a move on!" Bobby's voice shouts through the door, and then Sam can hear Bobby leave.

Sam sits up, looking over to see Dean still asleep. Which is odd, because Dean's usually the first one up, especially when they have a wake up call.

"Dean! Time to get up. Bobby might take the impala and leave without us." Sam jokes, but the smile fades from his face quickly when Dean still doesn't move a muscle.

"Dean?" Sam rushes over to Dean's bed and shakes his brother, but still nothing. Sam quickly checks his pulse, to find it there but very weak. Sam quickly looks around the room to find Dean's pill bottle on the floor, nearly empty. Sam knows it should be over half full.

Tears sting Sam's eyes as he grabs the hotel phone by the bed and dials 911.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Bobby is packing up his stuff in the room next to the boys when he hears his name being called. He drops his bag and rushes next door. The door is still locked when he tries to rush inside, instantly worried about the boys.

"Sam? That you? Open up!" Bobby bangs on the door.

It only takes Sam a second to open the door for Bobby, but then Sam rushes back to Dean's side.

"What happened?" Bobby asks, staying by the door.

"He won't wake up Bobby! He's still breathing, but barely. I don't know what to do!" Sam is freaking out, Bobby can see that. He can also now hear the faint sounds of sirens in the background.

"You call the ambulance?" Bobby asks, starting to get a little concerned himself.

"I didn't know what else to do Bobby. I know we try to avoid the hospital if we can during hunts, but this...he took almost all his pills Bobby. I can't...he can't do this."

Bobby quickly rushes over to Sam, and pulls him into a hug. "We'll figure this out."

Before Sam can pull himself together, two paramedics rush into the room. The rest happens in a blur, Sam tries to pay attention and answer all the paramedics questions, but he's in shock. Before he knows it, Sam's in the passenger seat of Bobby's car, while Bobby quickly follows the ambulance to the hospital.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam is pacing the length of the hallway of the hospital. Bobby is sitting on a chair, watching him.

"Sit down Sam, you're making me dizzy." Bobby mumbles.

"I can't. I can't believe I slept through this again. He could...he could die Bobby." Sam chokes out.

Bobby quickly stands. "Hey, no. This is not your fault. You need sleep, we all do. You're brother should have said something. He can't keep doing this. You got to have faith that these docs know what they're doing, okay. You got to your brother in time, I know you did."

Sam refuses to allow himself to break. If he breaks, he can't possibly be there for his brother when he wakes up. And he needs to wake up. Sam's not sure he go through losing another family member, the only family he has left.

As Bobby and Sam stand silently in the hallway, both wrestling with their thoughts. A doctor enter the hallway. Before the doctor can speak, Sam rushes over to him.

"Is he okay?" Sam asks, needing the answer to be yes.

"He's stable." The doctor answers, and Sam deflates.

Bobby holds onto Sam, to stop him from falling over. "See, it's going to be okay."

"Can I see him?" Sam asks, needing to see it for himself that his brother is okay.

"He's still sedated. We had to pump his stomach. He should be up in the next few hours, but we'll need to keep him here for observation for at least the next 72 hours. It's standard in cases like these." The doctor explains.

"He wouldn't try and kill himself, I'm sure...There's an explanation I'm sure." Sam defends, not wanting to think that his brother tried to end his own life.

"Regardless of what your brother was thinking at the time, we still need to be sure. I pulled your records from the hospital you boys were treated at after your car accident. I'm sorry to hear about your father."

"Um...thanks." Sam mumbles.

"There's also a Doctor Carlson listed under a psychiatrist contact. Should he be notified?" The doctor asks.

Shit. There's no way Dean can handle Doctor Carlson. Not now, maybe not ever.

"Um...no. I was the one under his care for a while after the accident, but not anymore. Um...is it possible that we bring Dean to him on our own after Dean is discharged? I wouldn't want to inconvenience the doc, and his offices are rather close to our uncle's place." Sam pleads, needing the doctor to believe him so he can get Dean out of here as soon as possible.

"I'll have to let him know you two are planning on stopping by. And I really should get someone to talk to your brother here, before he's discharged. Especially if Mr. Carlson was treating you before and not your brother."

"Dean doesn't um...he's not going to talk to anyone you bring him. I understand it's procedure, but please. He's been through a lot. We'll stay the 72 hours if that's needed, and you can contact Mr. Carlson if you need to. Just...please, I need to see him." Sam pleads, fighting back his tears.

"Alright, I'll get one of the nurses to bring a cot in. Or shall I bring two? Dean's in a single room, that's usually how it works in cases like this. We usually don't allow people in past visiting hours but..."

"Two please." Bobby cuts the doctor off, not planning on leaving the boys alone at this point.

"Alright, I'll set it up then." The doctor walks the same way he came. Sam and Bobby quickly follow. "As I said, he's still sedated, but it's hard to judge when he'll wake up. I'll give you guys some privacy."

Sam and Bobby are left alone in Dean's room. Dean's asleep on his bed, a few wires connected to his body, and he looks slightly pale.

"What are we going to do Bobby? He's not getting better, hell I think he's getting worse." Sam sits down next to his brother, not wanting to take his eyes off him.

"Hopefully this will be a shock to him too, a wake up call that he needs. I'm sure you're right Sam, I don't think you're brother meant to kill himself. He's just...I donno. I sure wish that boy would talk to you, hell I'll listen too if he wants me around. But I suggest you boys take a break from hunting, because I don't want anymore calls about hunts gone wrong alright. You guys will give me a heart attack at this rate." Bobby pulls up a chair, and sits down next to Sam.

"Alright." Sam laughs, wiping away a lone tear that ran down his face.

"We'll get him through this. You boys have faced down as many monsters as some of the finest hunters out there, I'm sure we can tackle whatever it is that has your brother this disturbed."

"I donno Bobby. This is different. It's not a hunt. It's not a monster we can kill, or a demon we can exorcise. I can't betray his trust Bobby, I wish I could. But there's so much that's killing him. The stuff you don't know, dad, this life, probably even things I don't know about." Sam rambles, his throat getting tight from holding back his emotions.

"I know losing your daddy was tough. He was a good man."

"It's more than that Bobby. He feels he's responsible, even though he was in a coma before it happened. He still feels responsible. And how do you tell him otherwise. He's a Winchester after all. We're stubborn as hell."

"Don't I know that." Bobby smiles faintly, unsure what else to say. It's going to be a long and painful 72 hours.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean didn't wake up at all that day, and eventually Bobby and Sam decided it would be best to get a few hours of rest. A nurse brought them both a cot a few hours ago. Bobby insisted that Sam get the first round of rest, knowing that Sam wouldn't want them to both rest in case Dean wakes up while they are sleeping. Reluctantly Sam agrees to rest first, knowing Bobby will wake him if anything happens.

Sam's not sure how long he's been sleeping when he gets poked by Bobby. Sam stretches, looking up at Bobby. "What?"

"He's waking up."

Sam sits up quickly, and moves back to his seat next to Dean's bed. "Dean? Come on man, wake up."

"Sam?" Dean mumbles, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah, come on man. Please open your eyes." Sam takes a deep breath, calming his nerves, needing to be strong for his brother.

Dean opens his eyes slowly, feeling like he's been hit by a truck. The last thing he remembers is having a hard time getting to sleep and taking some of his pills after waking up from yet another nightmare. Dean slowly takes in his surroundings, but Sam and Bobby look like they haven't gotten much sleep in a while. How long has he been out? Dean wonders. That's when he notices he's in a hospital room.

"What I am doing in the hospital Sammy?" Dean asks, trying not to freak out.

"What do you remember?" Sam asks, really hoping his brother remembers what he did, and that there's a reasonable explanation to everything.

"Um..we crashed at the motel. I knew we'd only be getting a couple hours of sleep before heading back to Bobby's...um...couldn't sleep." Dean admits, feeling guilty for being a burden yet again.

"Anything else?" Sam asks.

"Um...took some of my pills, that's all I remember." Dean can tell there's something he's missing here. How the hell did he end up in a hospital?

"How many did you take?"

"Why?"

"It's important Dean, please."

"Um...took two after my shower, and another two when I woke up from a..." Dean stops, looking over at Bobby. Bobby doesn't know everything. Why would he be having nightmares over the things Bobby does know about.

"Dean you took the rest of the bottle. There was no more then four in there." Sam says, trying hard not to yell.

"What? No." That can't be right, Dean thinks. He would remember taking that many pills.

"You weren't trying to...the doctors, they uh..." Sam's not sure how to ask.

"No! No! Are you crazy?" Dean shouts, getting upset.

"Well what I am supposed to think Dean? When I woke up, you were barely breathing. Pill bottle nearly empty. You didn't wake me. You didn't...you just took so many pills. You could have died." And there it is, all out in the open. And Sam can't hold it together any longer, he starts to let the tears out.

"You don't have to talk about certain things with me around. I know there are things I still don't know about. But you owe your brother and me an explanation. And an answer. Were you trying to kill yourself boy?" Bobby asks calmly.

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He feels like the walls are moving in on him. "No, I wasn't, I swear. I swear on the car, on dad, anything I need to swear on for you two to believe me. Please."

"Ok, then what happened?" Bobby asks, giving Sam's shoulder a squeeze. He can tell Sam's trying hard not to completely breakdown, but he can't blame the boy for crying right now.

"I just wanted them to stop. I wanted the nightmares and the voices to stop. I donno what happened. I just...I lost track of time, and what I was really doing. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen." Dean's eyes sting, but he refuses to cry as he watches his brother cry over what he almost did.

The room becomes quiet as everyone processes what Dean just confessed. Sam wipes the tears from his face, refusing to cry anymore. What does it help to cry over this, this isn't new. Sam knew all about Dean's nightmares, and crying isn't going to help his brother right now.

"Can we get out of here? Please." Dean pleads, starting to feel very claustrophobic.

"Doctors want to keep you here for a couple more days for observation. You're lucky they aren't making you see a shrink Dean." Sam explains, his voice a little rough.

Dean starts to move towards the cords attached to his body, but before he can even rip out the first one, Sam's hand is over his.

"Don't Dean, come on." Sam pleads.

"I can't. I can't stay here Sammy. Please." Dean pleads, just as desperate. Tears sting his eyes, but he refusing to cry in front of Sam and Bobby. He can't stay here, hospital's have never been one of Dean's favorite places. But since dad...

"Just relax Dean, if you have a panic attack, that's not going to help the situation. Just take a deep breath, you're safe here. Nothing's going to happen to you." Sam soothes, hoping he can talk his brother out of a panic attack right now. He might need to do it a few more time before his brother is discharged.

Dean just nods as he relaxes back into his bed, trying to calm his breathing.

"Do you want me to talk to the doctor? See what we can do about cutting some hours down from your stay?" Sam asks, trying to think of anything that might help his brother out right now. He really doesn't want to leave, but he can't think of anything else that may help right now.

"Bobby what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out on a hunt?" Dean asks, not wanting to admit he'd rather have his brother and Bobby stick around right now.

"Naw, I don't need to be on a hunt right now boy." Bobby replies, not sure why Dean always feels the need to push him away. Push everyone away for that matter.

"Come on, when's the last time you've even been on a hunt? We're always intruding, but you're always there." Dean tries to smile, tries to play it off. But his body is still shaking, he still can't stand to be in this room.

"It's been a little while, but um...last time I went on a hunt, you boys were dealing with Gordon Walker. " Bobby explains.

"Really? You never mentioned being on a hunt?" Sam asks, confused.

"Wasn't anything to tell really. Got a little hairy at the end, but relatively a normal hunt." Bobby explains, vaguely. Not quite meeting either of the boys eyes.

Dean can tell Bobby's lying about something. Maybe he knows something, and whatever it is, for some reason Dean feels the sudden urge to know. "Um...Sam, if you could talk to my doc, that would amazing. I don't think I can stay sane in here for over two more days."

Dean tries to smile, but Sam knows it's not real. He knows something up, with both Dean and Bobby. Maybe Dean will talk to Bobby if he leaves, which hurts a little. Or maybe Dean just wants to hear all about this hunt Bobby's avoiding talking about. Either way, Sam could use some air. A few minutes to clear his head so he doesn't have another meltdown.

"Alright, I'll be right back." Sam slowly gets up and leaves the room.

Once Sam is out of the room, Dean directs his attention back to Bobby.

"What's really going on Bobby?" Dean asks, glad for a distraction from his own issues at the moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Why so cryptic? We've told you all about our hunts. Hell, Sam's told you things I wish he didn't. So what aren't you tell us?" Dean pushes again.

"You're the one admitted into a hospital, so why I am being questioned? We should be talking about you." Bobby says, avoiding the subject yet again. There's no way he's telling Dean without Sam around. Sam would be pissed.

"Nothing to talk about Bobby. It was a mistake." Dean replies, not wanting to get into anything.

"Are you sure?" Bobby asks.

"Yes, damn it, I'm sure. I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Then what was going through your head? Do you realize how terrified your brother was when he couldn't wake you up." Bobby nearly shouts, unable to contain the anger any longer. And knowing it's best to get all this out while Sam's out of the room.

"I never understood why people believe tough love is effective." Dean mumbles.

"Look, Dean, I'm not your father, and I'm not trying to be him. I don't know if anything that happened last night, has anything to do with him. About his passing, or...I donno. But you can talk about it." Bobby reassures, trying to bring the anger level down a notch.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Really? You're father doesn't factor into any of this?" Bobby asks, an eye brown raised.

"Oh course he does. He's..." Dean can't finish his sentence, he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to spill his guts about how he feels, he can't do that.

"He's gone. And I know that must be tough."

"Bobby, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But whatever I'm carrying around, that's for me to deal with. Not you, not Sam. It's mine." Dean states, holding onto his strength, even though he feels it slowly slipping away.

"If the weight your carrying around nearly gets you killed, then it doesn't have to yours to carry alone anymore Dean. You have people around you that care. You're brother is worried sick about you, and so I am."

"What difference does it make Bobby! Huh!" Dean nearly shouts, his anger boiling over. He's sick and tired of everyone pushing. Why can't they leave him alone. "What difference does it make if I talk about my feelings. Dad's gone. It doesn't matter what he did when he was alive, or what he said before he died. None of that matters cuz he's gone."

Bobby and Dean are so into their argument, that none of them heard Sam re-enter the room. Sam didn't go talk to the doctor like he said he would, he just needed a minute to clear his head. But when he hear raised voices coming from the room, he needed to make sure everything was okay.

"Dad said something to you before he died?" Sam asks.

Dean and Bobby are startled by Sam's voice. Sam stays by the door, and Dean feels his heart-rate pick up. He didn't want Sam to hear any of that.

"I ask, and you...you lied to me? Why?" Sam tries not to feel hurt or betrayed. He knows his brother is going through hell, so their has to be a reason why he kept this from him. But that doesn't stop Sam from wanting to know now that he knows there's something Dean's keeping from him.

"Don't Sam. Please." Dean pleads, feeling like he can't breath all of a sudden. He didn't want this to come out. Out of every secret he's kept from Sam, and Bobby. He's rather admit the rape to Bobby then tell Sam this. Because this will destroy Sam, and Dean can't bear that.

Sam stays by the door, even though every part of him wanted to go sit next to his brother and tell him that everything is going to be okay. But Sam can't shake this sick feeling he has in his gut. Something is telling him that whatever Dean is hiding from now, he isn't going to like it.

"Dean, you're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit. Please." Sam pleads, needing Dean to be honest about whatever their father said before he died. He has the right to know.

"I can't. I promised. Please Sam." Dean pleads as he tries to continue to breath.

"Dean, just relax okay. Nothing is going to happen. But...who did you promise?" Bobby asks, placing a hand on Dean's arm, trying to keep him grounded and calm.

"Dad." Dean mumbles, closing his eye. He can't cry. He can't break. He just needs to breath.

"What are you talking about Dean? What did he tell you?" Sam pushes, needing to know.

Dean opens his eyes and looks over to Sam. If he's going to do it, he can't stop now. Just needs to rip the band-aid off. It's his own fault he got in this mess. He shouldn't have said anything.

"Right before dad died...he told me something. He told me something about you." Dean starts, gripping onto the bed sheets under his hand.

"What? Dean, what did he tell you?" Sam forces himself to ask, but the look on Dean's face already tells Sam he's not going to like what he's about to hear.

"He said he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you." Dean fights back his tears, he's not sure if he can do this.

"He told you that a million times."

"No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you."

"Save me from what?" Sam asks, feeling his own heartbeat start to pick up. Is this what Dean feels like every time he nears a panic attack, Sam wonders.

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered...and that if I couldn't, I'd..." Dean stops, he can't. He can't do this.

"You'd what, Dean?" Sam grips onto the door frame to keep himself where he is, he doesn't want to move.

"That I'd have to kill you. He said I might have to kill you Sammy." Dean blurts out, a tear running down his face.

Bobby remains quiet, not sure how to take everything he's just heard. He doesn't dare take his eyes of Dean, even though he wants to see how this is effecting Sam.

"Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sam asks, getting angry. Not at Dean, but at their father.

"I don't know." Dean replies, his breathing coming out a little faster than before.

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it right? Is this about the demon, and these stupid premonitions? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go darkside or something? What else did he say Dean?" Sam rambles, needed to know everything their father said.

"Nothing, that's it, I swear."

"How could you not have told me this?" Sam asks, regretting it the minute the question leaves his mouth. But there's no going back now.

"Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to." Dean spits out, trying to grasps onto the anger Sam is feeling. Needing to feel anything but the pain building in his chest.

"You had no right to keep this from me!" Sam shouts, needing to be angry right now or he might just burst into tears.

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all, on top of everything else. Why would he do that?" Dean tries to be angry, but it falls short as more tears start to run down his face.

"We've just got to figure out what's going on then, what the hell all this means."

"Why? Please Sam, I can't..." Dean closes his eyes, unable to breath right anymore.

"I can't just ignore this Dean. Dad thinks I might turn evil? Turn into some kind of killer?"

"I never said that!" Dean yells.

"Boys, keep it down. You'll get us all kicked out of here, and how will that help your brother Sam?" Bobby finally turns to face Sam.

"I can't believe this. I can't..." Sam turns and walks out of the room.

"Sammy..." Dean chocks out, the air officially out of his lungs.

Bobby turns back to Dean to see him struggling to breath. "Hey, kid. Take it easy. This is not your fault. You dad, I know he tried his best with you boys, but...he had no right. You are not to blame for any of this, you hear me."

Dean tries to listen, tries to understand the words Bobby is saying to him, but he can't focus. Everything is starting to blur around him.

"Dean! Snap out of it, or these doctors are going to keep you here a lot longer than another 72 hours."

"Bobby...can't...I can't..." Dean chokes out, as he tries to get air into his lunges.

"It's okay to break son, we all have to face things sometimes that knock us down. But I need you to relax, and breath. You're brother isn't mad at you. He's mad at the situation, and what your dad did. But he's not mad at you. I promise." Bobby explains, hoping to god his right.

"Can you...can you check on him?" Dean asks, still struggling for breath.

"I ain't going no where until I know you're okay. Or at least until you're calm and breathing right...you hear me?"

Dean nods, and closes his eyes. He blocks every voice and every thought out of his head that's pounded at him, wanting to break him. He forces a few deep breaths into his lungs before he opens his eyes to look at Bobby.

"You okay?" Bobby asks.

Dean's not sure how to answer that, he just focuses on breathing.

"Okay, stupid question. Look, I'm going to get your brother. I think you two need to talk this out. Or he at least needs to be here." Bobby gets up as he can tell Dean's calming down a little, at least for now. "I won't be long, I promise."

Bobby waits for Dean to nod, knowing Dean is finally a little more grounded. Then Bobby gets up and leaves the room.

Bobby doesn't haven't to go far to find Sam, who's sitting on the floor, his tall frame curled up on the ground making Sam as small as possible. Bobby walks over and takes a seat on the floor in front of Sam. He can tell Sam's no longer holding onto the anger he had in the room, as he is now crying.

"Sam?" Bobby places a hand on Sam's shoulder in case he didn't hear him.

Sam instantly straightens up, and wipes the tears from his face.

"Sam, I know this is a lot to take in. And I promise you, we'll figure all this out. But I really need you to go talk to your brother." Bobby says, once Sam's calmed down. "I can stay out here if you'd like.

"Bobby...I just...I can't believe my dad would put something like that on him. He knew...fuck." Sam curses as more tears run down his face. "He might not have known everything about Dean that I do...but our father was anything but stupid. He must have known what this would do to him."

"I know, and we'll figure everything out, I promise. But what your brother needs right now is to know that you aren't mad at him. That you aren't blaming him for any of this. Because there is a long pile of shit he's trying to ignore, and it's clearly pushing at the surface. And wether or not it was an accident, you're brother nearly killed himself last night. So you need to keep helping him like you have been...and I think maybe this stuff with your dad is something you can finally take off his shoulders." Bobby rambles, hoping that what he's saying is making sense and sinking in.

Sam nods, and slowly gets to his feet. Bobby follows, and they both walk back towards Dean's room. When they enters, Dean's fiddling with the bed sheet. He's clearly trying to remain calm, when he sees Sam, he tries to smile, but it's clear that he's near more tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken off like that. We'll figure this out together. Okay." Sam says, taking his seat next to Dean's bed. Bobby follows, sitting back in his chair.

"I swear, I didn't want to have to keep this from you."

"I know. It was a shitty thing for him to do. Dad should have talked to me. Hell he should have talked to Bobby over you. But we all know now, so...once you're better, we'll figure it out okay." Sam rambles, needing to be sure that his brother knows he's not angry with him.

"What did the doctor say?" Dean asks, hoping to change the subject.

"He still wants you to wait out the 72 hours, and see Doctor Carlson when you're released." Sam lies, knowing that's what the doctor would have told him anyways.

"I'm not talking to him." Dean replies, not meeting Sam's eyes.

"I know, I will. We didn't really part on the best of terms last time I saw him, but I'll smooth things over."

"Thanks Sam."

"But a compromise?" Sam asks, not sure how Dean's going to take it.

"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this either way."

"Probably not. As much as I want to dive into figuring out why dad said that to you, about what all this demon stuff means, and what his plans are for me. I think we both need a break from hunting for a little bit. If it's okay with Bobby." Sam looks to Bobby, hoping he won't be overstepping their welcome.

"You don't even have to ask Sam. You two are more than welcome." Bobby replies, hoping this vacation will last longer for the boys then the ones before.

"Well, since we're all about honesty right now. I think it's only fair you tell us about your last hunt Bobby." Dean finally says, needing a distraction from his own drama.

"Dean." Bobby warns, really not wanting to get into this now.

"What? Are you embarrassed? Did you get your ass handed to you?" Dean tries to smirk, but he's still wrestling with his emotions.

Bobby doesn't answer, a small shake to his head, as he avoids eye contact. And that's when Dean knows it's something serious, and most likely connect to him or Sam. Maybe Bobby had a run in with a demon that got a little too chatty.

"Okay Bobby, you're even making me nervous." Sam says, as he too picks up on the mood shift with Bobby.

"I don't want to make all this harder for you boys." Bobby finally admits, knowing it's going to come out whether he wants it to or not.

"If this has to do with us, I think we have the right to know Bobby. We just had a confessional just a second ago, did I like it, no. But Sam's right, he did deserve the truth. So...if this is about us, we deserve to know Bobby." Dean rambles, getting nervous.

"I know, I just wish I never found this out. So I wouldn't have to be telling this to you both."

"What is it?" Sam asks, putting a hard on Dean's shoulder, trying to offer him support, even though he's getting really worried himself.

"Got a call about a possible black dog. Figured you guys were out during a hunt, I might as well get back to it. Turns out it wasn't a black dog, but hellhounds."

"Fuck." Dean curses. "You're okay though, right?"

"Yeah, I uh...thought I could save the last victim, and I did. But um...it turned out people were selling their souls. A demon was around ten years ago at a bar, made a few deals. I was able to trap it, and get the last guy out of his deal." Bobby explains, knowing what he's about to say is going to hurt Dean.

"Demon said something to you about us, didn't it?" Dean asks, fearful.

"Yes, she knew I was connected to you boys. Brought up you dad. Said he was burning in hell."

"Demons lie though, right?" Sam hates thinking their father is in hell. But he really hopes Bobby isn't about to confirm Dean's worst fears about their father's death.

"They do, yes."

"Unless the truth hurts more." Dean speaks up.

"I'm sorry Dean."

"What? What did she say about our dad?" Dean fears he already knows the answer. He admitted this to Sam after they dealt with that zombie chick, that he was somehow responsible for their father's death.

"You're dad, he made a deal. Not the same demon, someone higher up apparently. Um...but it was to save you Dean." Bobby admits, waiting for the fallout.

Dean just shakes his head. He knew something was off. The doctor's couldn't explain why he woke up from his coma. It was as if they all thought he was going to die. Dean can't stop the tears that start to run down his face.

"Dean." Sam's not sure what else to say.

"Why? Why would he do that?" Dean asks, feeling another panic attack coming. "I can't...he shouldn't have...fuck."

Sam and Bobby aren't sure what to say to make this okay. At least the truth it out now. But will it help Dean deal with their father's passing, or will it only make things worse.

Outside the hospital, Sam and Dean's problems seem to only be looking worse as a car pulls into the parking lot. Gordon Walker behind the wheel. Gordon debates he's next move, as he looks towards the hospital.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

TBC

I am going to try and get the next chapter out in a couple weeks. Things have slowed down for me a little now. I have a plan for the remaining chapter. Slowly getting close to the end. About three to four more chapters to go, plus a possible epilogue. Sorry again for all these delays. Thanks to everyone that's kept with me. Hope you all enjoyed this new chapter.


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